


A little closer now

by KatieBeforeElise



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Clueless Harry, Coming Out, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Smut, highschool!au, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:18:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 36,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieBeforeElise/pseuds/KatieBeforeElise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is a bit of an outcast at school, only really clicking with his best friend Niall.<br/>Not once did he think he'd be falling for the captain of the football team.</p>
<p>Or</p>
<p>The one where Harry's been crushing on Louis for a year, Niall's friends with the both of them and stuck in the middle, Liam is constantly talking to Louis about Zayn and Zayn just isn't talking at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New

**Author's Note:**

> If you clicked this, thank you! I'll fix the summary, promise :)
> 
>  
> 
> More of my stuff here: katiestylinsons.tumblr.com

Harry was sixteen years old the first time he saw Louis Tomlinson. He was sitting in the cafeteria with Niall, just like any other typical Tuesday. Harry had never understood it, really, why his loud, blond classmate chose to sit with him constantly. Niall had tons of friends, Harry had Niall. 

“This is where I like to sit,” was the only response Harry had ever gotten out of him when he brought it up. And so Harry happily shared his little corner of the school with the only friend he had. 

No, this day was nothing different from every other typical Tuesday. Except this was the Tuesday everything changed.

“D’you see the new kid yet?” Niall asked, shaking his empty soda can.

Harry shrugged slightly. “Do you really expect me to keep track of every person in this entire school?”

“’Course not. But I figured you’d heard of him. He’s quite the story.”

Harry simply nodded at Niall to continue, his mouth full of food. 

“He’s gay,” Niall said casually.

Harry almost dropped his fork, catching himself in the last second.

“How’d you recon?” He asked, trying for sarcasm. It didn’t quite fall through.

“He told me,” Niall explained, leaning back. “Or, told Kathy. I hit her up after class, and she was talking to him. Figured I’d join in, welcome him and all that.”

Niall rolled his eyes at himself before continuing.

“Anyway, she asked why he’d transferred schools. And get this; he said he’d gotten expelled for use of violence. Some kids were bullying him for being gay, and he beat the shit out of them.”

Harry didn’t quite know how to react to this, so he simply stuffed his face with more food. 

“I think it’s badass,” Niall continued. “To be honest about something like that, even if people act like dickheads in return. I’d never have the balls.”

“Niall,” Harry said finally. “You’re as straight as a pole.”

Niall chuckled. “That’s true. But I can imagine. It just really pisses me off, you know? That he’s gonna be the only openly gay guy in this entire school.”

This time, Harry actually did drop his fork. It landed in his mashed potatoes with a ‘thump’, but Niall was too busy pulling out his phone to notice.

“What did you say his name was?” Harry managed after a while, finally trusting his voice again.

“Louis. Louis and then something with an O. Or a T, maybe? I dunno’.”

“Louis,” Harry repeated, testing the name on his tongue. “Sounds French. Is he French?”

Niall tore his eyes away from his phone as something behind Harry caught his attention. 

“There he is, actually.”

Harry turned around at once, and didn’t need Nialls whispered comments to pick the new guy out of the crowd. He was standing three tables away, talking to one of Niall’s friends, a small smile on his lips. 

His features were perfect, high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. His hair was straight and brown, falling into his eyes slightly as he laughed. Harry caught himself thinking that Louis with an O was probably the most handsome guy in school, if you didn’t count Zayn Malik. And you kind of couldn’t count Zayn in with the mortals.

But he didn’t look like the violent type, Harry concluded. No, he really couldn’t imagine the feather-haired boy in the striped shirt ever hurting anyone. And that’s exactly what he told Niall.

“I know,” Niall agreed. “Looks damn innocent. He’s a year over us, by the way. Seems like a nice enough bloke.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “He does.”

That was the first time Harry spent his lunch staring at the smiling stranger, but it certainly wasn’t the last.

\---

The year came and went without making any difference. Harry watched as Louis grew into the school, made friends and joined the football team. One could say he got popular, but Louis didn’t really fit the part. Sure, he was surrounded by people at all times, he threw the best parties and everyone loved him. But not once did he act as if it mattered. Louis spoke to whoever he felt like, whenever he felt like, unbothered by cliques and high-school clichés. 

Harry changed too, not that anyone but Niall was paying attention. It wasn’t the 4 inch height-gain or the development of slight abs that bothered Harry, though. 

He felt different. It was as if he’d been lost all his life, trying to find out why, and now he’d finally realized what it was. Last year, he’d been suspicious. This year, he was almost completely certain. 

\---

Harry was seventeen years old the first time he spoke to Louis Tomlinson. It happened when he was at work. Harry was cleaning behind the counter of the practically empty bakery when a cloaked figure came hurrying through the door.

Harry looked up and caught Louis flipping his hood back and running a hand through his messy, wet hair. Harry hadn’t realized it was raining outside until now.

“Can I have two croissants, please? With chocolate?” Louis asked, fumbling for his wallet before looking up. “Oh, hey! We go to the same school, don’t we?”

Harry was rendered speechless for a second. He hadn’t heard Louis voice before, hadn’t been quite this close to his smiling face and his blue eyes.

“Yeah,” Harry finally managed, reaching for the pastries Louis wanted, finding comfort in the force of habit.

“I’ve seen you around,” Louis continued, his face glowing. “You’re friends with Niall, right? Funny lad.”

Harry could do nothing but nod as he handed over the croissants. However, that seemed to be enough of an answer for the smaller male.

“I’m Louis,” Louis introduced himself as he handed Harry his payment. 

As if Harry didn’t know that. As if Harry hadn’t spent the past twelve months trying to get Louis’ face out of his head. 

“Harry,” Harry responded, a slight blush on his face. Louis seemed satisfied with actually getting an answer.   
“Well, I’ll see you around, Harry,” he smiled before turning to head out into the rain once more.

Harry couldn’t help himself from yelling after him. “Don’t drown out there!”

Louis turned in the doorway and grinned widely. “I won’t. Promise.”

And then he was gone. Harry cursed at himself for being pathetically awkward before going back to work. But he couldn’t quite shake the thought of Louis grinning at him, hair all wet and messy.


	2. Leather and routes

The next day, it took him twenty minutes of blabbering about football with Niall over lunch before he’d built up the courage to talk about it. 

“Hey Niall,” he asked, drawing Niall’s attention away from a bag of crisps. 

“Huh?” Niall kept his eyes on Harry, but continued eating. 

Harry bit down hard at his cheek. “You play football with Louis Tomlinson, right?”

“Yeah. What about him?”

Harry didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let his eyes find their way to the long table in the middle of the cafeteria. 

Louis had gained a ton of new friends since his arrival last year, the dearest of them being Zayn Malik and Liam Payne. The three of them were currently surrounded by a usual crowd, laughing and smiling at all the jocks and cheerleaders and whatnot. 

Louis’s popularity, Harry could understand. He was charismatic, gorgeous and a decent footballer. It was destined to be. His friendship with Zayn was to be expected to. Zayn didn’t play like most of Louis’s friends, but he was similar to the blue eyed boy in so many ways, the most prominent of these being their shared love for trouble. 

But why Louis Tomlinson seemed to be joined at the hip with Liam Payne had always been a mystery to Harry. Liam was the president of the student council and a top student from what he’d heard. Not that Liam Payne would ever brag about his grades. No, Liam Payne was the kind of guy who’d walk old women across the street and then apologize. 

“He came to the bakery last night,” Harry said simply. He didn’t quite know why he was telling Niall this, but he felt it was such an important piece of information that it had to be shared. 

“Yeah, he mentioned that at practice,” Niall shrugged. 

Harry choked on his drink. “What?“

His voice was high and stressed, making Niall’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he looked at Harry.

“Yeah. Kept asking all these weird questions ‘bout you, actually. But I just think he wanted to know what team you play on. You know.”

Reality smacked Harry hard in the face. Which team he played on. He stood up abruptly, questions about Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson long forgotten. 

“I’ve got to get to class,” he spat, grabbing his tray and rushing for the bin. He could hear Niall getting up behind him, and cursed silently through the lump forming in his throat. He managed to get out the front door, but just as he drew his first breath of fresh air there was an arm around his shoulder.

“I’m not gonna have you walk out on me like that,” Niall said. “Class is not in another twenty minutes.”

Harry shrugged away from his touch and walked hastily towards the bleachers. He knew Niall would follow, but he couldn’t really do much about it at this point. 

“Talk to me, Harry,” Niall demanded as they sat down, staring out at the empty football field. There was a slight drizzle in the air, so the entire student body was cramped up indoors. 

“I’m serious,” Niall continued when he didn’t get an answer. “You can’t pull shit like that. Is it something I said?”

Harry didn’t know where to start. Instead, he looked down at his empty hands and tried to make sense of it all. Tried to make sense of the way Louis’s face hadn’t seemed to leave his mind since that very Tuesday almost a year ago. How Harry would always look for Louis first thing at lunch, only to feel relief wash through him when he spotted the feathered haired boy. 

How he never seemed to be jealous of all the girls Niall constantly fooled around with. How he’d never wanted to fool around with any of the girls he’d ever met. 

How he’d never voiced these thoughts to anyone before, because, how could he be sure? 

“I think,” Harry started. “That I might like guys the way you like girls.”

Niall was silent for a moment. Harry could feel his stomach clench tightly. This was it.

“Okay,” Niall said finally, throwing an arm around Harry’s shoulder once again.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘okay’?” Harry demanded angrily, pulling back. He’d expected shouting, cursing, rejection; anything but this. Things weren’t supposed to just be ‘okay’.

Niall didn’t react to Harry’s change of voice, though, sneaking an arm around the curly haired boy once more. 

“I mean okay. It’s not like it matters, is it?” Niall looked at him with curious eyes. 

Harry went limp against his smaller frame for a second, before erupting into a short, explosive laughing fit. 

“I think you may be the world’s best mate,” He told Niall sincerely, and Niall chuckled at that. 

“Nah, I don’t know about that, I’m just glad you told me. You know we’re mates no matter what. Have you talked to anyone else about it?” he asked. 

Harry shook his head. “Don’t think my mum will mind, though.”

“No, Anne’s great,” Niall agreed. “You’re lucky. Louis will be happy about this, at least.”

Harry pulled away from Niall, his eyes wide. “You’re not gonna tell him!”

“Why?” Niall questioned, looking confused. But then Harry went red, and Niall’s face grew into a smile. “Oh. I see.”

Harry tipped his head forwards, causing the mop of hair rested on top of it to fall down and cover his face. “No, you don’t. It’s nothing like that.”

“Of course it is. I’m not stupid. But don’t worry, I’m not gonna say anything.”

“Thank you.”

The two boys sat like that, arms around each other’s shoulders, for way too long. Before Harry knew it, they were both late for class, and had to run down the bleachers, tripping and laughing. They parted at the main entrance, Harry heading for French class and Niall for Spanish. 

Harry glanced at his clock. The halls were empty by now, but he could make it if the teacher was late. He skidded around the last corner, optimism building, but then he ran into something, hard, and came crashing down on his ass.

“For fucks sake, watch where you’re going, asshole!”

Harry couldn’t see anything through his curls, but the male voice was unfamiliar, dark. Harry was about to apologize when someone else beat him to it. 

“ZAYN! You can’t say things like that! That was your fault!”

Harry shook his hair out of his eyes just as Liam Payne hunched down beside him. Harry could see Zayn Malik standing behind him, an apologetic look on his face. 

“Are you okay?” Liam asked.

“Yeah, fine, just fine,” Harry mumbled. He scrambled his books together and stood up, cheeks burning red.

“Hey, mate, I’m sorry. Really.” At least Zayn looked sincere enough.

Harry shook his head. “No, it’s okay. Probably my fault.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Liam’s tone of voice was almost too nice. “What’s your name? I’m Liam, by the way. This is Zayn.”

“Harry Styles,” Harry said quietly, expecting no recognition. It’s not like he had ever spoken to any of them before.

But then a look of understanding washed across both Liam’s and Zayn’s face at the exact same time, leaving Harry even more confused. The two older guys looked at each other. 

“Harry,” Zayn said, his voice slow. “As in Harry and Niall Horan?”

Harry nodded, briefly wondering if he’d ever be introduced to anyone without Niall’s name coming up. 

“Oh,” Liam said hesitantly, but then he caught himself. “Of course. Niall’s mentioned you, obviously.”

Harry couldn’t ever think of any reason why Niall would be ‘mentioning him’, neither could he ever imagine Niall talking to Liam in the first place. He’d never seen them together, but what did he know?

“Are you going to the game on Friday, then?” Zayn asked suddenly, receiving a relieved smile from Liam. 

It took Harry a minute to respond. He’d been to a couple of Niall’s games, the first ones, but it was always slightly awkward. With Niall out on the field, there was never anyone for him to talk to or sit with. Even after the game, when a sweaty Niall came running for a high-five, Harry felt like such a burden, dragging Niall away from his team. It’s not like he didn’t want to make friends with Nialls mates, he just didn’t know how. 

So after a while, Harry stopped going to the games, instead sitting at home writing songs he knew he’d never have the balls to perform. But right now, facing the older, slightly intimidating and drop-dead-gorgeous Zayn Malik, Harry simply couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse.

“Uhm, I think so, yeah,” he mumbled. 

“Me and Zayn are going too,” Liam said eagerly. “Obviously, we don’t play, but Louis would kill us if we didn’t show. You should come sit with us, if you’d like. We usually get the best seats, down front.”

Harry was about to lie straight to Liam’s face: promise his presence at the game and then never show. But there was something about the way Liam smiled at him. There was no trace of the familiar pity in his eyes. Liam hadn’t asked Harry to join because he felt sad for him, which was usually the reason for Harry to get asked these things, he’d asked because he wanted Harry to come.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Harry agreed, actually meaning it. “But I have French class now, so… “

Liam and Zayn nodded in understanding and threw him their goodbyes before continuing down the empty hallway. Harry was left staring at the two backs disappearing, one in leather and one in routes, feeling utterly confused.


	3. Cookies

Niall walked home with him after school, their backpacks stacked with books and assignments. The sky was blue, though, a rare event in this part of the country.

“I’m going to the game on Friday.” Harry dropped the news suddenly, as if they were not the single most abnormal thing about this entire day.

“Why?” Niall asked, looking confused. “I mean, it’s great if you do, but you’ve never seemed into it before.”

Harry’s steps haltered a bit. “I ran into Liam Payne and Zayn Malik today. Or, more like Zayn ran into me. We sort of got talking, and they asked me to join them. On Friday, I mean.”

“Wait a second,” Niall said, stopping dead in his tracks. “You’re telling me that you were actually able to have a normal conversation with someone? All by yourself?”

“All by myself,” Harry laughed, pushing Niall around slightly. They continued walking. “It was kind of weird, actually. Liam said you’d mentioned me to him, but I’ve never seen the two of you talking…?” 

“Hm... I can’t remember the last time I spoke to him, actually. But he sometimes comes to pick Louis up after practice…. I’m sorry, mate, I really don’t know.”

“It’s fine, not important,” Harry rushed, now more confused than ever. “Are you close with Zayn then? He seemed kind of nice.”

“Zayn?!” Niall spat, laughing. “Nice my ass.”

“What? I’ve never heard any shit about him.” 

“I know, It’s just- … I don’t know, I’ve never really liked Zayn. When I’m around, he never talks to me, or anyone else on the team either. It’s usually just him and Louis. I don’t even think he talks to Liam that much, and Liam’s really nice. It’s like we’re not good enough for him.”

“Maybe he’s shy.”

“No, he loves talking to Louis.”

“I love talking to you,” Harry explained softly. “Doesn’t mean I get other friends easily.”

Niall smiled a small smile. “Maybe you will on Friday. Shit, I can’t believe they asked you to join them.”

“Stop it, Niall. You know I’m only coming to watch you.”

“Sure, sure. And the fact that Louis Tomlinson will be running around, all sweaty in tight shorts, has nothing to do with the case.”

“You’re a prick, d’you know that?” Harry reached out and smacked Niall’s arm. “But can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What’s Louis like?”

Niall groaned. “Oh god no. You’re so not going to make me the middle man in this romance thingy of yours.”

“It’s not a romance,” Harry protested. “I just want to know what he’s like. You’re friends with him, you know stuff.”

“Why don’t you just talk to him yourself?” Niall asked, an amused look on his face. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Have you met me? Do you really think that’s an option? He’ll laugh in my face.”

“No he won’t.” 

“Yes he will. Besides-“

“Harry! We are not doing this!”

Harry groaned. “Fine.”

He knew Niall wasn’t really upset; the small smile on his lips betraying his otherwise carefully sculpted expression of frustration. 

“Dinner at my place?” Niall proposed, but Harry shook his head. 

“I’ve got to get to work.”

 

It’s not that Harry hated his work per say, but some days were definitely worse than others. This was one of those days. The bakery had been busy for hours, seniors and teenagers and parents with screaming children in and out of the door. Now, the rush had finally settled down, but Harry could still feel his head spinning slightly. 

The bell on the door plinged and interrupted him from stacking the shelves. He turned around and was met with a pair of familiar blue eyes. 

“Hey Harry,” Louis said. 

Again, both words and grace seemed to fail Harry as he tripped over his own feet on his way to the counter. 

“Are you alright?” Louis asked when he managed to steady himself again, and Harry went red.

“Yeah, fine.” There was a moment’s pause before Harry realized he was probably supposed to speak. “What can I get for you?”

Louis drew his eyebrows together. “I don’t know… I think I want something sweet. Do you have any recommendations?”

“Uhm,” Harry had to look away from Louis’ stare in order to think. “The chocolate chip cookies are good?”

It wasn’t supposed to come out as a question. Definitely not. But Harry still took some pride in his answer. Louis had ordered chocolate croissants the other day, hadn’t he? Cookies weren’t that bad of a suggestion.

“I’ll have a cookie then,” Louis said. “And some coffee.”

Harry tried and failed to ignore the way Louis’ face lit up when he was smiling. He turned to fix the order instead, and to his surprise the other boy lingered at the counter.

“Are you taking it with you or sitting here?” Harry asked with his back to the shop.

“I think I’ll stay.” Louis’ smile was evident in his voice. “The view is pretty great here.”

“No it isn’t,” Harry protested without thinking. “All you can see through the windows is the road outside.”

He turned with the coffee in his hand and found Louis smirking at him suggestively. 

“I wasn’t talking about that.”

“Oh,” Harry said, even though he didn’t understand at all. “Anyway, here’s your coffee and cookie.”

“Thanks.” 

Louis paid before disappearing to a nearby table with a wink in Harry’s direction. Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as Louis sat down and pulled out a book from his bag. Then, to Harry’s utter surprise, he pulled out a pair of glasses as well and put them on before diving into his book. 

He stayed that way, glasses-clad nose buried in his book for almost an hour. Harry tried to not stare, he really did, but sometimes he simply couldn’t help the way his eyes seemed to drift to Louis. A couple of times the boy at the table looked back at him over the rim of his glasses, and Harry blushed and turned away. 

It was frustrating, really. On one hand, he was upset at Louis for distracting him at work (not on purpose, but still), and on the other he really didn’t want Louis to leave. Maybe that’s why, when Louis’ plate and cup had been empty for half an hour, he pulled himself together and walked over with another cookie and more coffee.  
Louis smiled and put the book down when Harry slid the new plate in front of him. 

“Are you trying to make me fat?”

Harry hands, which were busy pouring Louis coffee, shook for a second. But then Louis laughed, and the sound made him feel oddly calm. 

“No,” Harry said, proud when his voice didn’t shake. “But you did look like you needed a refill. You’ve been reading for ages.”

“I know. I’m trying to focus on this stupid book, I have to read it for English class, but I keep getting distracted.”

“What’s distracting you?”

Louis cocked a brow at him before letting his eyes travel down Harry’s body and up again. “What do you think?”

Harry really didn’t know. Louis didn’t seem to have a phone with him, or headphones in his ears. The shop was quiet, too, the silence barely filled by soft music from the radio on the counter. 

“Do you want me to turn off the music?”

Louis stared at him for a second before cracking up. He threw his head back in laughter, and Harry was mesmerized by the sight. He could see the veins on the other boy’s neck, and the way his Adams apple moved along with his chuckles. It was almost sad when Louis came to his senses again, looking at Harry once more. 

“Sorry. I don’t mind the music. Do you want to sit down?”

Harry was about to protest when he realized he didn’t have to. The shop had emptied while they were talking, the only other remaining customer was in deep conversation on her phone and didn’t seem to need any help at all. 

“Okay,” he said, taking the seat opposite Louis. Louis’ smile grew wider as he put his book and glasses back in his bag.

“So you’re in Niall’s year, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m on the team with him,” Louis explained. As if Harry didn’t know that. “He’s probably the best goalie the school’s ever had. Are you coming to the game on Friday?”

“Yeah,” Harry said again as Louis broke his cookie in two and handed him half of it. “I don’t usually go, but Liam asked me, so-“

“Liam? My Liam?”

Harry tried not to cringe at the description. 

“I think so. Liam Payne.”

“When did that happen?” 

Louis looked almost upset, and Harry felt stupid for bringing it up at all. It was just so hard to think when Louis was looking at him with those eyes. 

“I met him at school today. He said he goes to see you play.”

Louis’ expression went from shock to concern.

“What, exactly, did Liam tell you?”

“What he told me?” Harry ran a hand through his curls. “I met him and Zayn... They said they were going to the game and asked if  
I was too. We didn’t really talk for long.”

“Oh.” Louis was smiling again. “I was just-, Never mind.”

The sound of Louis’ phone going off interrupted Harry’s attempted question. Louis pulled it out and hit mute before pocketing it again. 

“Speaking of the devil…,” he said with a smile. Harry was starting to wonder if Louis was one of those people that never stopped smiling. “I’m sorry, I completely lost track of time.. Supposed to meet Liam fifteen minutes ago.”

Louis stood up and Harry mirrored his action. 

“How much do I owe you?” Louis asked, pulling out his wallet.

Harry shook his head. “Nothing.”

“But I only paid for one cookie, and-“

“Forget it. Think of it as a bribe for distracting me from cleaning, yeah?”

Louis raised his eyebrows. “I’m distracting you?”

“Obviously. I’m supposed to be working, you know.”

“In that case I’ll have to come back here again, won’t I?”

Harry was blushing again. Louis picked up his bag and turned for the door.

“I’ll see you on Friday, then?”

“Sure.”

“Great! Bye, Harry.”’

“Bye,” Harry tried, but Louis was already gone.


	4. Muddy

“Who are you thinking about?” 

“No one in particular.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Harry. You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

Harry picked up the pillow nearest him on the bed and threw it towards Niall, who was lying across his bedroom floor. Their schoolbooks were in a corner somewhere, long forgotten. It didn’t really matter, it was Friday afternoon and they had all weekend to do silly equations and write essays. Not tonight, though. Tonight was game-night, and both boys were nervous for completely different reasons.

“It’s Louis, isn’t it?” Niall asked. 

“No…” Harry dragged his answer out for too long. He’d never been that good of a liar. “It’s nobody.”

“Why are you lying to me?” Niall brought a hand to his chest and feigned hurt. “I thought we were best friends? Mates for life?  
Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Harry groaned. “Fine. Fucking fine. I’m thinking about Louis. How can you blame me? It’s not my fault that arse comes to the bakery practically every single day and looks fucking perfect and acts fucking perfect and winks at me over his glasses and ugh!”

He turned abruptly and buried his head in the nearest pillow as Niall laughed. 

Harry groaned. “It’s not funny!”

“Yes it is! You’re in love, you should enjoy it.”

Harry tore himself away from the bed in order to shoot Niall a death glare.

“I am not in love with him.”

Niall cocked an eyebrow.

“I am not! He’s just so fucking attractive, that’s the problem.”

“He’s not that attractive,” Niall protested. Harry let out a ‘pshh’ as he fell down on the bed again.

“Have you seen him? Have you seen his hair, his eyes, his---,” Harry shot up from the pillows once more as something dawned on him. “Shit! You’re on the team with him! You guys shower together for fucks sake! Tell me what he looks like naked! Please? Is his cock as perfect as—“

“Harry!” Niall interrupted him, covering his ears with his hands. “We are not going there!”

“Oh but we are, my little Irish friend. Come on, mates for life, remember? If you could just give me a size comparison, roughly--”

“I’ve never seen his dick, Harry. Not deliberately, nor by accident.”

“Well fuck, that’s a waste. You’ve had the chance to see perfection in human form naked, and you don’t go for it? Man, I know you like chicks, but seriously.”

“He’s not that attractive,” Niall said again, shrugging. “And he’s a friend of mine. I don’t check out your junk either.”

“’He’s not that attractive?’ Who are you?”

Niall shrugged again. “It’s not because he’s a guy…I just don’t see it.”

Harry thought for a second before turning on the bed so that he was lying with his face towards the other boy.

“This is actually really interesting, Horan. Louis isn’t hot, you say, but then who is?”

“You mean what guys?” 

“Yeah. If you had to shag a dude, who’d you want?”

The question was as serious as a question from Harry could ever be, and Niall realized this. He thought for a good full minute  
before answering.

“Liam Payne.”

Harry hit his head on the bed frame in frustration. Again with the fucking Liam guy. 

“Liam?”

“He’s got a six-pack!” Niall protested. “And he’s nice to everyone. That’s always attractive.”

“I suppose…” 

There was silence for a while as Harry tried to phrase his suspicions in the most non-creepy way.

“Do you think Louis and Liam’s got something going on?” he asked finally. 

Niall sighed and rolled onto his back, eyes meeting Harry’s for the first time. 

“Honestly? I don’t know. They could be. I mean, I’ve never seen them get physical or anything, but what do I know… Louis gets this look on his face, though, when he talks about Liam. It’s- I don’t know what it is.”

“Well that’s just fucking perfect, isn’t it? He’s taken before I’ve even come out of the closet properly…”

“Aha!” This time it was Niall’s turn to shoot up, his finger pointing intently towards Harry. “So you do like him!”

Harry didn’t answer. Instead, he stood up and grabbed Niall’s bag from the floor before dumping it onto the other boy.

“Get dressed, you twat. You’ve got a game to win.”

 

When they arrived at school, Niall disappeared into the locker rooms instantly, leaving a very nervous Harry behind. It didn’t take long for him to regret ever coming to the game as he stood by himself beside the bleachers. This was stupid. This was stupid and pathetic and-

“Hi, Harry.”

Liam was standing beside him with a wide grin on his face, wearing their teams colors.

“Hey.”

“Have you been standing here for long? I’m so sorry!”

The concern was evident on Liam’s face. Fuck, Harry couldn’t hate him even if he tried. 

“No, don’t be, I just got here.”

“Oh.” Liam’s frown turned into a smile again. “Come on, let’s go find good seats.”

And they did. They found great seats, actually, and it wasn’t until both teams were getting ready out on the field that Harry realized it was only the two of them.

“I thought Zayn would be here?” He tried, regretting his question immediately when Liam’s face fell. 

“Yeah… He’s supposed to be here, but I don’t know where he is.” Liam was quiet for a while before speaking again. “It’s not really important; I’m only here to support Louis.”

The insecure tone of his voice confused Harry. “I thought you and Zayn were best mates?”

Liam smiled half a smile, his eyes dead. “No, it’s-..We’re not-, we’re not that close, me and Zayn.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry blurted before he even had time to realize what he was sorry for. “I shouldn’t have asked, I shouldn’t have-“

“Why are you sorry?” Liam wondered. “It’s not a secret. I’m- Zayn!”

Harry turned his attention to the object of Liam’s stare, and found Zayn pushing his way through the crowd to get to them. When he did, he wrapped his arms around Liam in a tight hug, shot Harry a grin, and let his bum hit the seat next to Liam just as the game kicked off.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said. 

And that was really all he did say throughout the game. Zayn sat quietly, playing with an unlit fag, and took turns watching the  
game and watching Liam. 

Liam didn’t look back at him, though. In fact, Harry wasn’t quite sure what Liam was doing. One second, he’d sit talking to Harry, and then something happened out on the field and he jumped out of his seat, screaming. It lasted for a moment or so, Liam’s voice booming through the noise of the crowd, before he sat back down and continued their conversation like nothing had happened.

Harry didn’t mind it in the slightest, but that was probably because their conversation revolved entirely around Louis. It seemed as If Liam just couldn’t shut up about how great Louis was. Apparently, he was not only the best friend anyone could have, but also the best football player and even the most handsome guy in school.  
Liam told Harry the last part with a weird undertone in his voice, and Harry was the only one that caught the way Zayn’s smile seemed to fall. 

 

When they all swarmed out on the field after the game, Louis found them immediately. He threw himself at Liam, a big smile on his face as the other boy hugged him back.

“We won! We won, Liam! Did you see my goal?!”

Liam smiled and nodded as he released Louis from the hug, and soon Louis had his arms around Zayn instead. 

“Get off,” Zayn complained with a smile, pushing Louis away. “You’re all sweaty.”

Louis did as told, and then, completely without warning, he wrapped his arms around Harry too. 

Harry froze, completely taken by surprise. Louis stood a few inches shorter than him, his body warm and soft. He smelled like rain and dirt and sweat, but Harry was still completely mesmerized. 

Just as he got himself together and returned the hug, Louis pulled back. 

“Harry, you’re here! Has Liam been nagging the shit out of you?”

Liam threw himself at Louis before Harry had a chance to respond, the two boys falling to the ground in a tangle of wrestling limbs. It took about two seconds before Liam had Louis pinned to the ground, a wicked smile on his face. Harry thought he heard Zayn sigh.

“I haven’t been nagging the shit out of anyone,” Liam proclaimed at Louis. “Right, Harry?”

Harry could do nothing but nod. Louis laughed out loud as he tried to break free of Liam’s grip, but he was completely helpless. When he realized this, he turned his attention to Harry and Zayn.

“Does anyone care to help me?”

Zayn rolled his eyes as Harry reached out a hand slowly. He wasn’t quite sure how he could help in the situation, but Louis grabbed his arm and attempted to pull himself off. Unfortunately, Liam was stronger than the both of them. Harry slipped on the muddy grass and fell flat on his ass into the nearest pond. 

“Fuck!” he muttered, and Louis’ eyes widened. 

Harry realized his outburst and went flaming red under Louis stare. 

“I’m sorry,” they both said at exactly the same time. 

And then Harry started laughing. He couldn’t help it, the situation was just so far away from anything he’d expected. He was soaked from head to toe in filthy water, Louis’ hand still in his as they lay on the field. Liam had given up on Louis and was talking to Zayn, both of them smiling at the pair on the ground.

“I'm the one that should be sorry," Louis smiled. "I dragged you into the dirt!” 

Harry couldn’t quite find it in himself to stand up, because that would mean letting go of Louis hand. Instead he rolled out of the  
pond and towards Louis. 

“It’s fine,” Harry insisted. “I’ll just go home and change.”

Louis cheek was plastered to the wet ground, one eye closed against the moist, but the change in his expression was still obvious. They were laying mere inches apart now, Louis breath on his neck.

“We could-,” he started, blue eyes twinkling. “I mean, if you wanna hang out, you could borrow some dry clothes from me.”

It went against all of Harry’s instincts to agree. He was bound to make a fool of himself if he did. 

He should get up and walk away. He should run in the opposite direction.

And yet Harry found himself whispering. “Yeah. We could.”


	5. Yorkshire tea

It turned out that Louis lived in a small flat just a few minutes from the school. Liam and Zayn had been quick to decline when Harry asked if they were coming, too, hence it was just him and Louis that stepped through the green front door and into the dark living room.

The second Louis flicked on the lights Harry realized he was living alone. There was stuff everywhere; the entire flat looked like one giant teenage-bedroom. It wasn’t filthy per say, more messy, but the mess screamed of Louis: Sport jerseys were strewn about, a pair of glasses lay on the kitchen table, there was a football in one corner and even a keyboard stood against one of the walls.

Harry was too preoccupied with taking in his surroundings to realize that Louis had appeared beside him with a ball of clothes. 

“You’re taller than me,” he explained, handing them over. “So I’m not sure if they’ll fit. But at least it’s dry, yeah?”

“Thanks,” Harry murmured, unsure of what to do next. 

Louis smiled at his confused expression and pointed to a door on their left. “Bathroom’s through there.”

 

Harry realized that Louis had been right about their size difference from the moment he pulled on the dry pair of sweats. They were loose enough for him, thankfully, but ended up showing about half his leg. The same thing happened to the sleeves of  
Louis’ shirt, so Harry rolled both of them up to his elbows. 

He glanced in the mirror and realized just how much Louis the outfit was. It even smelled of him, and Harry allowed himself to smile for a second. He was in Louis’ house, wearing Louis’ clothes, with Louis. Just the two of them. 

The thought was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. 

After a moment or five, he pulled himself together and went back in the living room, only to find Louis making tea while humming quietly to himself. Harry took a deep breath.

“What do you think?” he asked nervously.

Louis turned around and Harry made a gesture towards his outfit. 

“You look hot.”

Harry’s breath hitched at the compliment, but Louis took no notice in it. He picked up two steaming mugs and handed one of them to Harry.

“Feels weird that I’m the one handing you hot beverages,” Louis mused. “It’s Yorkshire tea. I’m hooked, but I’ll make you something else if you don’t like it.”

Harry took a small sip from his cup as they sat down on the couch. Louis pulled his feet up under him and settled with his face towards Harry. 

“No, I like it,” Harry said. He would have said that even if Louis was handing him mud water, but he actually meant it. The tea was sweet and full of milk.

“That could be something you’re just saying,” Louis smirked. “But I’ll take it. It’s the only kind of tea I like, my mum always brings me some when she’s down here.”

“You live alone?” Harry asked, and immediately regretted it. “Oh, sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

But Louis was still smiling over the rim of his mug. “You don’t have to apologize; it’s not a sad story.”

“It isn’t?”

“Not at all. When I transferred schools last year, the daily trip from home to here was too long. My parents said we’d move; they’d do anything to make me happy. But I’ve got four sisters…” 

Louis expression softened at the mention of his siblings. 

“I didn’t want them to have to leave their friends behind because of me. So my mum got me this place as a compromise. I still go home on the weekends and live with them.”

“Your mum sounds wonderful,” Harry said awkwardly. 

He was surprised that Louis was telling him all this, sharing storied like they’d known each other for ages. It felt nice.

“She is.” Louis laughed a little. “Still can’t believe she actually got me a flat. Who does that?”

Harry blew on his tea. “Maybe she was proud of you for standing up to those assholes at your old school.”

There was a slight noise from Louis before he cleared his throat. “So you’ve heard about that.”

“Pretty hard not to. Niall was wickedly impressed.”

“Harry, listen.” Louis put his mug down, his eyes wide and soft as he looked at Harry. “I’m not--, I mean, that’s not who I am anymore. I don’t want you to think that I’m-, I’m some kind of violent asshole.”

“I know you’re not,” Harry stated, and Louis looked surprised. “And even if you were, they had it coming to them.”

Relief washed across the older boy’s face, leaving Harry mesmerized. Louis’ face was like an open book, every expression a direct reflection of his personality, his thoughts, his soul. It was so honest and raw that Harry found it hard to watch sometimes. At the same time he never wanted to tear his eyes away. 

Louis’ honesty sparked something in Harry, made him want to let Louis in in the way he himself was let in by Louis.  
Harry closed his eyes for a second, his voice merely a whisper. 

“I wish I was that brave.”

The second he opened them again, he knew that Louis understood. That this wasn’t about beating people up. This was about Louis’ decision to not give a single damn about anyone’s opinion, Louis’ bravery to be himself every single day.

“Harry…” Louis voice was strained and his expression one of helplessness. Ever so slowly, he reached over and took Harry’s hand in both of his. It looked almost as if he expected Harry to pull away. “It’s not always about courage. Although I wish it was that simple, it’s not. Every story is different, every person goes through a different process. Some of the bravest people I know are still in the closet.”

Harry looked down at their joined hands. “How is it like? To have everyone know about you?”

Louis sighed. “At first, it was terrifying. I’m an intense person and I do stupid things under pressure: I came out all at once on an impulse.”

Louis was silent for a second, his eyes darting around the room before settling on their hands as well. Harry said nothing, allowing him to go on.

“I’d been afraid that I’d lose my friends, and I did, to a certain extent. Most of them haven’t spoken to me since, but that’s okay. I don’t need them, and the ones who stayed are even more precious to me. 

I’ve always been lucky when it comes to my family. My mum was shocked, of course, but she accepted me. So did dad and my sisters, even though I’m pretty sure Lottie already knew.”

Louis smiled a crooked smile. 

“It is terrifying,” he said again. “But it’s also the best feeling in the world. I’m not hiding anymore, I’m not pretending to be someone I’m not. I’ve never been happier.”

Louis smile was full blown by now, his eyes sparkling at the memories. He was beautiful, Harry thought, there was really no other way to describe it. 

“I’m going to do it, you know,” Harry said. “Come out, I mean. I want to.”

“Then do it. Those who matter won’t mind, and those who mind won’t matter.”

Harry laughed. “Did you just quote Dr. Suess?”

“Maybe.” Louis smiled and got up, taking their mugs to the kitchen counter.

“Thank you.”

The sincerity in Harry’s voice caused Louis to turn. “For what?”

“For being yourself.”

 

The hours in Louis’ flat flew by, but in between burnt French toast, a thousand cups of tea and conversations about favorite colours and most hipster bands, neither of the two really noticed. 

“Are you working this weekend?” Louis asked when they gave up on finding something good on the telly. 

“Yeah, I’m doing the morning shift tomorrow. Why?” 

Louis lit up. “Just wondering. Do you mind me popping by?”

“Sure.” Please, please do. “But I can’t really see the appeal. Don’t you ever get tired of pastries and coffee?”

“I’ve told you before, that place’s got the best view,” Louis explained. “And the most attractive staff by far.”

Harry felt a twinge of jealousy as he remembered how his colleague had waited on Louis instead of him last night. “Ethan only works on Thursdays.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Are you always this oblivious? Or are you just trying to let me off gently?”

Harry drew his eyebrows together. “What are you talking about?”

Louis huffed and sat up properly on the couch. His face was one of stone as he studied Harry’s expression carefully.

“You are really that clueless, aren’t you?” he asked. 

Harry felt more stupid than he ever had as he repeated his question. “What are you talking about? What is it that I don’t understand?”

Louis smiled. “That you’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever met. That I’m going to get fat on cupcakes and shit because all I want to do is sit in that bakery and be around you. I’m growing pathetically obsessed with you, and you don’t even realize it.”

It took Harry a second to find his voice through the initial shock, and when he did, the only thing he seemed to be able to utter was a quiet “What?”

Louis tore his eyes away and focused on his hands instead. 

“I’m going to make this as easy as possible for the both of us: Harry, do you want to go on a date with me? It doesn’t have to be in public if you don’t want to. We don’t even—“

“You want to go on a date with me?” Harry asked, more confused than ever. “Me?”

“Yes, Harry,” Louis smiled. “I want to go out with you. Do you want to go out with me? Or are you going to make me wait even longer because I’m already pretty nervous right now.”

Harry was stunned. Absolutely speechless. Surely, this was some kind of joke. Louis going out with him? Harry went through the last week in his head, trying to figure out why Louis would joke about something like this. Wondering if Niall had put him up to it, or if Louis was just messing with his head for the fun of it. 

But then he looked down at Louis, who had his eyes blown wide again and a nervous smile on his lips, and realized that no matter how unbelievably incredible this was, it was actually happening.

“Yes,” he whispered, and Louis lit up. “I’d love that. As long as we don’t go to a bakery.”

Louis laughed. “I promise.”


	6. Buzz

Although he probably should have been expecting it, with being asked about his shift the night before, Harry was still surprised when a very tired-looking Louis stepped through the door of the bakery Saturday morning. His hair was tucked into a grey beanie, safe a few straight strands against his forehead, and his eyes were half shut behind his glasses. His outfit was something Harry never would have expected him to voluntarily wear in public; sweatpants and a bulky sweater, both strikingly purple.

“Coffee,” he muttered when he’d managed to make his way to the counter. “Please?”

He didn’t say anything else until he’d downed half the cup Harry brought him, and Harry didn’t speak either, waiting for Louis to snap out of whatever the hell this was.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, looking at Harry over the rim of his glasses. “But do you have any idea what time it is?”

“It’s almost eight,” Harry responded immediately.

“Almost eight,” Louis repeated. “It’s not even eight in the morning on a fucking Saturday, and you manage to look like that?”

Harry looked down at his clothes, confused. “Look like what?”

“Like you’ve been woken up by the sun kissing you good morning and gotten dressed while little blue birds helped form your curls perfectly as you sang your heart out in joy of being given this brand new day,” Louis voice was hoarse as he waved his arms back and forth enthusiastically. “All the while I rolled out of bed like a sack of potatoes fifteen minutes ago and managed to end up looking like a fucking grape and not even caring about it.”

Harry laughed. “I’m pretty sure my hair’s flat and full of flour.”

Louis groaned as he let his head fall against the counter. “Not fair. This is so not fair.”

“You didn’t have to come,” Harry said, pouring more coffee into the now empty cup.

“I know. But I wanted to.”

The oven pinged right then, allowing Harry to hide his smile as he rushed into the kitchen. Anna, his co-worker who also worked Saturday mornings, was sick today, meaning that he had twice the amount of work all by himself. He told Louis this from behind the counter, hands deep in dough, and the other boy smiled before he settled with his book at one of the tables.

They didn’t get a chance to speak for the next two hours, until Louis pulled out his wallet and slugged over to the counter again.

“I’ve got to go,” he explained with a yawn. “My sisters expected me back home yesterday, they’ll be furious.”

Harry froze. “Yesterday?”

How had he not realized that? Louis had been sitting right next to him on a fucking Friday evening, and told him, quite straightforwardly, that he went home to his parents on Fridays.

“Oh shit. Did I keep you from going? You should’ve just kicked me out!”

“You didn’t keep me from going.” Louis smiled slightly and looked down at his feet. “You made me forget I was supposed to. That’s on me.”

Harry didn’t quite know how to respond to this, so stayed silent until Louis pulled out a couple of bills and, weirdly enough, the napkin he’d gotten along with his drink.

“No,” Harry shook his head.

“But Harry-“

“No. We’re not doing this again. All you’ve had is coffee.”

Annoyance flashed in Louis’ eyes for a second before he leaned over the counter so that their faces were mere inches apart. His blue eyes locked on Harry as if they were considering him. Harry stood his ground, although he couldn’t help but notice just how close they were. It made him think of how easily he could lean forwards that last little bit and press their lips together. But then, before he could think more of it, Louis huffed out in annoyance and pulled back.

“Will you at least take the napkin?” he tried, his voice sweet as honey. “Took me long enough to write on it.”

“Why did you-,“ Harry tried, but then Louis leaned over again and tucked the little white square into the pocket of Harry’s apron before pulling back once more.

“See you on Monday, Harry,” he called with a smirk, and then he was gone.

Curious, but still quite dazzled, Harry watched him go before pulling the napkin out of his apron. When he folded it out, he found written what could only be a phone number, along with a smiley face and a tiny black ‘x’.

Harry pulled his phone out immediately, but it wasn’t Louis number he typed out a text to. It was Niall.

 

 

“What the fuck, Harold?”

Niall was already in his room when Harry came home from work, having been let in by Anne no doubt. Or hell, maybe he’d just walked straight in, who knows. There was really nothing weird about this; Niall had spent half his childhood in Harry’s house, and Anne treated him like a second son. Sometimes Harry suspected that she even preferred the Irish kid over her own two.

“Don’t call me that,” Harry protested weakly as he dropped down on his bed next to Niall. “But thanks for coming over.”

“Would have come either way,” Niall snorted. “You ran off alone with Tomlinson last night without as much as an explanation. We’re supposed to share stuff, you know. Did you fuck him?”

“I-, No! Niall!”

Niall shrugged. “What? You were blushing as soon as I said his name just now. But now that I think about it, that’s kind of unlikely seeing that you’re, you know, you.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but he didn’t protest. There was no point, Niall was right after all.

“Seriously, though,” Niall tried again. “What happened?”

Harry let his eyes drift to the roof as he tried to come up whit a way to explain all the crazy stuff that had gone down in such a short amount of time.

“Remember how I told you I’m not in love with Louis?”

Niall made a fake coughing sound, but said reluctantly, “Yeah.”

“That was a lie.” Harry ignored the muttered ‘no shit’ from Niall and went on. “And remember how you’re the only one that knows I’m gay? That’s not right either anymore.”

“Did you tell your mum?” Niall sat up on the bed in surprise, but quickly fell back again when Harry shook his head.

“No. I told Louis.”

“Oh. And what did Louis do?”

“He asked me out.”

Niall moved abruptly again, but this time he turned around on the bed to offer Harry his fist, a smirk on his face. Harry pumped his knuckles against Niall hesitantly, but smiled as well.

“I knew it,” Niall said, more to himself then Harry. “And then?”

“I went home.”

“You went home?”

“Well, yeah.”

“But you did kiss him first, right?” Niall pulled his eyebrows together at Harry.

“Ehm, no?”

Niall sighed. “He asked you out and you went home?”

“I said yes, you twat,” Harry put in, smacking Niall’s arm in the process. “And he came to the bakery this morning and gave me his number before he left.”

“So you kissed him today, then? Or texted him, at least?”

Annoyed, Harry sat up on the couch and put his arms around his knees. “I didn’t kiss him today either. And I haven’t texted him. That’s why you’re here; This is your thing, not mine, I don’t know what to do.”

Niall chuckled, but he sat up too and cocked an eyebrow. “So that’s how it is. Well, you have come to the right man, young Harold. Your desperate search for dating knowledge ends here. I will show you the ways.”

Harry threw a pillow at him.

“Not funny.”

Niall rubbed his chin where the pillow had hit him, as if Harry had actually caused him pain.

“Do not wound your teaching master. You are nothing without my advice.”

They both laughed then, Niall at his own jokes and Harry at Niall’s stupidity. When they came to their senses, Niall was the first to speak.

“Pull out your phone.”

Harry did as told, but not without a small, “Why?”

“Because you’re going to text Louis,” he explained. “Just write something simple, like ‘Hey, what’s up?’ or whatever.”

“I’ve never said ‘What’s up’ in my life,” Harry protested. But he did type out a quick ‘Hey, it’s Harry?’ and showed it to Niall.

“Drop the question mark,” Niall demanded immediately. “But sure, you can send that.”

Harry took a couple of deep breaths before finally hitting ‘send’. The phone buzzed again within seconds.

-          _Harry who?_

“Shit.”

With ice gathering in his stomach, Harry showed the response to Niall, who frowned in confusion.

“Are you sure you’ve got the right number?”

“Pretty sure.”

In fact, Harry was more than pretty sure. He’d spent five minutes reading the digits again and again as he typed them into his phone.

“Well, then, tell him,” Niall ushered. “He’s probably shitting you. That, or he’s drunk.”

“It’s in the middle of the afternoon.”

“You never know.”

-          **Harry Styles… From the bakery? Sorry if I’m bothering you…**

The phone didn’t buzz again immediately, leaving Harry plenty of time to groan out in embarrassment to Niall’s utter enjoyment, until the small sound finally pulled him out of his misery.

-          _Shit! I’m sorry, that was my sister… Apparently no one’s got better things to do in this house but intrude my privacy. And you’re not bothering me, silly ;) What’s up?_

“He asked me what’s up.”

Harry allowed Niall to tug the phone out of his grip and read the message for himself.

“ _And_ he sent you a winkyface.”

“Is that good?”

Niall laughed. “Yes. He wants to talk to you, you should respond.”

Harry had no clue how Niall could be so chill about this entire situation when he himself felt like someone had reached down his throat and fisted his stomach so tight he could barely breathe.

“I don’t know what to write,” he admitted weakly.

“Well,” Niall said two seconds later. “You don’t have to.”

Harry tugged his phone back and noticed an outgoing message. “What did you write, Niall?!”

Niall put his hands up in surrender. “Nothing bad, I swear. Read it.”

-          **Got back from work, hanging with the best bud ever, Niall <33 What about you? ;)**

Before Harry had a chance to yell at his ‘friend’, there was a response.

-          _Niall wrote that, didn’t he? :) Either that or I should be getting jealous of him…_

“He knows you wrote it.”

-          **Yeah. Apparently none of us get to have our phones to ourselves. I hope your sisters weren’t too mad at you for not coming home..?**

-          _More curious than mad. Kept asking why I didn’t come earlier._

-          **What did you tell them?**

This time the reply wasn’t as instant, and Harry regretted his question as the seconds passed.

“What did he-“Niall tried, but then the phone was buzzing again.

-          _The truth. That there is this one boy whose hair is so curly and dimples so wonderful that I forget time and place._

Harry could feel the burn in his cheeks as he looked down at the little bright screen, reading the message over and over again.

“What’re you blushing for?” Niall asked, and then he was taking the phone from Harry’s numb hands. “Oh. Shit, he’s good. I’ll have to ask him how he does that sometime.”

Harry found his voice then. “Does what?”

“That.” Niall motioned at Harry’s still stunned expression as if it was obvious. It probably was.

The phone buzzed again, and somehow Harry was able to pry it out of Niall’s hands.

-          _About our date… How’s Monday? Have you got time for me right after school?_

“Monday,” Harry mused, showing the text to Niall. “That’s an odd day, isn’t it?”

Niall nodded. “But it’s Louis. That’s just how he is, I suppose.”

Harry sat silently for a while, wondering about this seemingly random day, until Niall finally cracked.

“Oh for god’s sake, Harry, tell him yes!”

Harry picked up his phone again and did as told.

-          **I’m all yours.**


	7. Drive

Louis wasn’t at school on Monday. Or, at least, Harry didn’t see him when he walked into the cafeteria with Niall during lunch. Liam was there, and Zayn too, the two of them sitting on opposite sides at their regular table and looking anywhere but at each other.

Niall didn’t mention Louis’ absence, and Harry wondered if it was because he knew something about it, or simply because he hadn’t noticed. Either way, their conversation stayed on all other topics but Harrys (possible) upcoming date, and that was just fine, seeing that Harry tended to get his stomach all up in a knot whenever he thought about it.

Nothing about the day held any indication that something out of the ordinary was about to happen until last period. Harry was at his desk in the back of the room as always, wondering why he’d chosen French instead of taking Spanish with Niall. He hated French, he really did; it was a pompous language with too many unnecessary apostrophes and weird sounds.

Harry glanced at the clock for the thousandth time that class, only to realize that, yep, he was stuck in here for another hour. The words on the blackboard seemed to blur into each other, a mess of ‘Je suis’ and ‘nous allons’ and a dozen other phrases he knew he’d never use.

There was a knock on the door then, causing his middle-aged teacher to jump in her chair before calling, rather unpleasantly, “Entréz, s’il vous plait!”

The door opened and her sour expression turned into a grin as Liam glanced into the classroom unsurely.

“Liam,” she said, and her voice was friendlier than Harry had ever heard it before. “How can I help you?”

The teachers were all like this when it came to Liam. Being a straight A student _and_ president of the student council had its benefits; He had them all wrapped around his finger. Harry wondered if Liam even knew the amount of power he held over this group of adults. Probably not.

Liam, being Liam, greeted her in flawless French before switching over to English.

“I was looking for Harry Styles, actually,” he explained easily. “I need his help, if it’s possible to get him out of this last class?”

Apparently, that was the only explanation he needed, because the teacher turned straight to Harry with a questioning look.

“You don’t mind helping Liam, do you, Harry?”

Harry was out of his seat with his bag in one hand before she’d finished asking.

“Of course not.”

 

When the door closed behind them, Liam covered his face in his hands, his friendly smile all gone.

“Shit,” he muttered into the empty hallway. “Shit, shit, shit! I shouldn’t have done that. I should _not_ have done that. They’re gonna find out, they’re gonna expel me, they’re gonna- Aw, fuck Louis and his fucking-,”

“Liam?” Harry interrupted. “What’s going on?”

Liam’s head snapped up at the sound of Harry’s voice, as if he was just now becoming aware of the other boys presence.

“Harry,” he said, and his voice was back to normal. “Would you hate me if I told you I’ve just helped you ditch class?”

“No...” Harry dragged out his answer. “Would ask you why, though.”

Liam turned around and motioned for Harry to follow him through the hallways. They ended up just outside the toilets, behind the tiled wall that kept by passers from seeing what was going on if you stood at just the right spot. The wall was also the reason why Harry didn’t see that Louis was waiting for them until they were actually there.

“Harry!” he smiled excitedly. “Want to go on our date?”

Like this was completely normal. Like Harry hadn’t just been yanked out of class after not seeing Louis at school all day. A sane person would question this turn of events. Harry _should_ be questioning this turn of events. Instead, he found himself saying,

“But I’m not dressed?”

“Your outfit is perfect,” Louis insisted, and Harry found some comfort in the fact that the other boy was also wearing regular clothes. “But we’ve got to go now if we want to make it on time.”

Louis turned to Liam and yanked his curly head down to his own level only to smack his lips loudly against Liam’s cheek.

“Thank you so much for helping me out. You’re the best.”

Liam wiped his cheek instinctively, but smiled. “I really shouldn’t have, you’re pure evil. But you guys have fun.”

Louis chuckled and put his hand on Harry’s arm, pulling him away from their hiding spot.

“Come on!”

 

Louis’ car didn’t stand out at the parking lot the way Harry had expected it to. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d thought that Louis would have an instantly recognizable car, maybe it had something to do with the way Louis himself always stood out in a crowd. But no, the old, red Mercedes didn’t differ much from the rest of them. In fact, Harry didn’t realize who it belonged to until Louis opened the door for him.

Harry tripped on his way in. Of _fucking_ course he did. Louis didn’t laugh the way he expected, just caught his arm to help him from falling in a way that had butterflies erupting in Harry’s stomach.

“I’m sorry for making Liam take you out of class,” Louis said when he was behind the wheel, the car speeding down the highway leading out of town. “You looked kind of upset when you saw me.”

“No, that’s not-“ Harry tried. “I mean, I was just surprised. I didn’t see you at lunch, so I figured this wasn’t…happening.”

“What?” Louis raised his eyebrows and looked away from the road for a brief moment. “You thought I’d blown you off? Why on earth would I do that?”

Harry shrugged and Louis shook his head as if he didn’t believe what he’d just heard.

 

They drove for hours. Miles and miles of countryside stretched out in front of them, the sun sometimes peeking through the cloudy cover above. It should have grown boring, after a while, driving on and on without knowing what your destination was, but Harry was too caught up in conversation to notice.

Louis told him about his sisters (I miss them so much sometimes, even though we see each other every week. That’s not crazy, right?), what he was planning on doing after graduation (Oh god. Please don’t ask me that. It’s just months away and I don’t even have a clue anymore), and even things about himself that left Harry wondering how he could have missed them (No, I’m nineteen. My transfer got messed up, so I had to take my senior year over again.)

Harry answered Louis’ questions as well, telling him about his plans for summer and how he’d always loved to sing. But mostly he was content with listening to the sound of Louis’ voice, picking up on the small things he hadn’t before, like how Louis always smiled with his mouth closed, but laughed with it wide open. The fact that he was driving meant that Harry could stare at him for minutes without being caught, and he figured he’d be happy with this date-thing they were doing as long as he got to keep looking at Louis.

His hands seemed strong and rough wrapped around the steering wheel, although Harry knew for a fact that they were velvet soft. At one point Louis kept his left hand on the shift lever after taking a right, wrapping his fingers around the knob and then letting them slide down slowly until-

Yeah, Harry should really stop looking at Louis’ hands. Except he couldn’t. There was no way Louis wasn’t-

“Harry?”

Harry looked up to find Louis eyeing him with question. They were in the drive-through lane of a fast food place, he realized.

“Sorry, what?”

“Nevermind.”

Louis smiled and leaned out of the window so that he could place their order, and then a couple minutes later handed Harry what must have been every possible thing on the place’s menu with a bright, “I didn’t know what you like.”

Harry pulled out his walled, but quickly sank back in his seat as Louis looked at him with fire.

“Need I remind you that you haven’t let me pay properly in the bakery _once_ since the day we met?”

And he couldn’t argue with that, he really couldn’t. So he tucked his wallet away and promised himself to shower Louis with pastries and coffee once he got the chance.

“This is shitty, I’m aware,” Louis stated when they were on the road again, still travelling in the same direction as before, wherever that was. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Hm?”

“It’s our first date and I’m buying you burgers,” Louis explained with an embarrassed expression.

“I don’t mind, I love burgers,” Harry protested, and Louis sighed.

“I would have taken you to dinner, you know. Someplace with white tablecloths and fancy food, but we simply don’t have the time…” he glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “And I would have made you something myself that we could eat on our way, but I’m a shit cook and you’d probably end up with food poisoning no matter how hard I tried.”

“How do you manage to survive on your own if you can’t cook?”

“Frozen dinners. A _lot_ of frozen dinners. And then sometimes Liam cooks for me, saying that I should eat more fresh vegetables and stuff.” Louis rolled his eyes. “Either way, you’re going to forgive me for feeding you shit when we get there, I promise.”

“Where, exactly, is ‘there’?” Harry tried. It was the first time either of them had mentioned their destination since getting in the car.

“You know, a normal person would have asked that as soon as we started driving.”

“If you wanted me to know, you’d have told me,” Harry countered. “Besides, I trust you.”

Louis teasing expression softened at that, his eyes drifting to Harry’s briefly. He looked back on the road just as they passed a giant city-sign, and seconds later Harry could see a familiar skyline appearing in front of them.

“Do you remember,” Louis started. “Last Friday at my place? We were talking about bands, and even though your taste in music is terribly hipster, we realized that we both love-“

“The Script,” Harry finished without thinking. And then, as he realized what city they were in, and what date it was, ”No! Tell me you didn’t!”

Louis laughed. “I take it you know their tour plan well, then. I’m impressed.”

Harry had trouble finding words through his excitement. “But-, when-, how did you even-, I’ve been trying to get tickets for months!”

 “I have my ways.”

 

Louis took his hand when they excited the car, intertwining their fingers while pulling him along gently.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, and Harry forgot how to breathe for a moment.

“Yeah,” he said eventually, squeezing Louis’ hand. “This is perfect.”

 

The concert was everything Harry had ever dreamed of. He sang along to every single song, not caring that his throat felt raw and his voice grew raspy, because Louis was singing too, right there in his ear, and Harry couldn’t remember ever feeling this happy about anything.

Louis was standing half in front of him, and during one of the slower songs he leaned into Harry, his back pressing against the other boys chest. It may have been the darkness, the crowd of nothing but strangers, or maybe the pouring of familiar music from the stage that made Harry wrap his arms around Louis’ waist and rest his head on his shoulder. They stayed like that for the entire night, neither of them willing to move away until they had to. And when the band was gone, and Harry’s head was spinning and all that came out of his mouths were giggles, Louis’ hand was still in his.

The drive home passed in a blur of laughter and post-concert adrenaline, their fingers tangled together over the shift lever, and Harry wondered why time seemed to pass in odd ways whenever Louis was around. Before he knew it, they were back in their home town, and it felt as if everything was ending too soon even though the night had stretched on forever.

The lights in his house were still on when Louis pulled up out front, and Harry felt thankful that the gig had been an early one and that he probably wouldn’t get murdered by his mother.

Before Harry could turn to Louis, he was out of the car and pulling the passenger door open, making Harry blush yet again as he stepped out of the car.

“So,” Louis said. “Did I do good? You haven’t been traumatized by having to eat crappy food or being trapped in my car for hours on end?”

Harry shook his head stupidly. “It was perfect. Unbelievable, actually. I may never date again, because nothing will ever be able to top this.”

“That’s a shame,” Louis whispered, reaching up to brush a curl out of Harry’s eyes. “I was hoping we’d get to do this again.”

He took one step closer, their bodies only slightly brushing in the cool air.

“We could-,” Harry swallowed, his body tense in anticipation. “We could do this again.”

“Yeah?” Louis asked, his warm breath on Harry’s skin, making him shiver in a way the cold didn’t, and he figured Louis wasn’t asking about the date anymore.

They were so close now, incredibly close, yet not close enough. Harry’s arms had ended up around Louis’ waist again without him realizing it, and Louis was balancing on his tippy-toes, hands tangled at Harry’s neck for support. Louis smiled sweetly, his mouth curving in a way that could only be an invitation.

“Yeah,” Harry whispered, and then Louis’ lips were on his.

Louis kissed him softly, carefully, as if he was afraid that Harry would break if he wasn’t gentle enough. It lasted for only a moment, Harry’s hands barely tightening around Louis before the older boy pulled back, keeping the kiss chaste.

“Good night, Harry,” he breathed, and then he was gone before Harry had the chance to respond, the sound of his car disappearing down the street.

 

And even when Harry was lying in bed hours later, sheets tangled on the floor of the dark room, he couldn’t help but let his fingers brush across his lips again and again, wondering if it was all just a dream. 


	8. Fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm overwhelmed at the comments on the last chapter. You guys are bloody amazing! ;)

“He kissed you, didn’t he?” Niall accused over lunch the next day.

“Fuck Niall, I haven’t even sat down yet,” Harry complained, falling onto the bench opposite of Niall. And then he was blushing. “But, yeah. He kinda did.”

A massive grin split Niall’s face in two. “And? Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know,” Harry squirmed, looking at the table. “He took me to a bloody The Script concert, for once. Then he held my hand and smiled at me and everything was perfect. Like, literally, the kind of perfect you only get in shitty romance-films.”

Niall made a face. “I should be mocking you for being all mushy about this, mate, but-, seriously? The Script?! Isn’t that like-“

“Three hours away by car?” Harry cocked his head to the side. “Yep, pretty much. Not to mention the fact that he got tickets to a sold-out concert in a span of three days. How is that even possible?”

Niall went to say something, but the door to the cafeteria opened then.  Harry looked up out of habit, and sure enough, Louis entered the room with the same unintentional grace he seemed to be enveloped by at all times, Liam straight behind him.

When neither of the two seniors headed for their regular table, Harry suddenly wasn’t the only one watching them. Silence fell upon the entire cafeteria as Louis crossed the room, Liam still behind him, and didn’t stop until he was in the far corner. _Harry and Niall’s corner._

“Hi,” Louis said, and all the confidence he’d seemed to have seconds ago was washed away. “Can we-, Umh-, Do you mind if we sit?”

Harry’s face was a silent mask of shock, the entire student body mirroring his expression as they looked at the scene in the corner. _Everyone_ was staring at them, hundreds of wide eyes focused on Louis and Harry, and yet not a word was spoken from anyone until Niall suddenly cleared his throat.

“’Course you can, mate,” he told Louis, before nodding at Liam. “Liam! Long time, no see.”

“Yeah, it is,” Liam agreed with ease, taking the seat beside Niall.

Louis, on the other hand, did not sit. “Harry, I’m sorry of this is out of your comfort zone. We’ll leave if you want.”

Harry looked up to find Louis studying him with uncertain eyes, as if he was truly sorry for causing a scene.

“No!” Harry protested, way too loud for a second before repeating in a lower voice, “No. You can-, you can sit here. I want you to.”

Niall snickered as Louis sat down. “So, are you guys doing anything fun tomorrow?”

Harry was surprised that Niall even remembered they had Wednesday off this week, but then again, bank holidays were more likely to catch the blonde’s attention than anything else school related.

Both Liam and Louis shrugged, Louis said something about the possibility of a football game depending on the weather, and then conversation was flowing like they’d sat together forever. Well, Harry didn’t say much, but he did manage to answer questions and smile like a normal person.

Slowly, the other students in the cafeteria returned to their own conversations and the buzz of voices spread through the room once more. It went silent again in a matter of seconds, though, when Zayn stepped through the door. He tensed up at the sight of his own table crowded by jocks and cheerleaders only, but Louis just waved him over with a grin and Zayn joined them without saying a word.

The bell was mere moments away from going off when Harry suddenly remembered something. He turned to Louis, addressing the other boy for the first time today.

“Louis?”

“Hm?” Louis turned to him with a surprised smile, his lips tilting upwards in a way that reminded Harry of the night before.

“I’ve still got your clothes,” Harry explained tentatively. “The ones I borrowed from you, you know, and I-, eh…”

Louis seemed happy that Harry was actually talking to him. “Oh, right. I’m home all day tomorrow, if you want to come by…? You can bring the clothes, but I really don’t mind if you keep them.”

“Okay,” Harry found himself saying. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Louis winked at him and stood up. “I can’t wait.”

 

And that’s why Harry ended up outside Louis’ door the next day, a bag of clothes that didn’t belong to himself in one hand, the other one raised hesitantly against the green surface. It took him a couple of deep breaths, but when he finally knocked, the door was pulled slightly ajar immediately.

All Harry could see for a moment was a pair of deep brown eyes staring back at him, eyes that definitely didn’t belong to Louis. A second passed in silence, and then the door finally opened wide.

Liam was standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

“Harry,” he said, his voice off somehow. “Uhm, what are you doing here?”

Harry couldn’t respond. In fact, he was pretty sure he couldn’t even breathe because the sudden knot in his chest was so tight. The bag of clothes in his arms made him feel inconceivably pathetic as he held it out for Liam to see.

“I was just-“ he tried, but then there was a flash of red and brown and suddenly Harry had arms wrapped around him, holding him tight.

“Harry!” Louis giggled, pulling back. “Hey!”

Louis, thankfully fully clothed, didn’t seem to take notice in the fact that Liam had greeted Harry in the nude. He tugged on Harry’s arm.

“Come inside, I’ll make you tea.”

Harry didn’t follow him. “No, it’s fine,” he insisted, looking anywhere but at Louis. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. Here’s your clothes, I’ll just go.”

Louis just rolled his eyes and tugged harder. “You’re not disturbing, silly. I’ve been waiting for you.”

 _Yeah right_ , Harry though, but he did follow Louis into the apartment. As soon as the door closed behind them, Louis released his arm and turned to Liam.

“Liam, babe,” he murmured softly, putting a hand on Liam’s arm. “Go back to bed, yeah?”

Liam looked as if he was about to protest, but Louis cut him off.

“Please? You _need_ sleep. We both know you didn’t get much of it last night.”

Harry’s jaw may or may not have dropped at the scene playing out in front of him. No one seemed to care about his presence anymore, though.

“You go get some sleep, love,” Louis repeated. “Dream about how amazing you are, and how much you’re going to accomplish in life, and how I’m never ever going to let you sleep anywhere but here with me from now on. And when you wake up, I’ll make you dinner and we’ll watch Iron Man for the billionth time, alright?”

“Alright,” Liam murmured, looking down.

Louis let his hands trace all the way up to Liam’s face, cupping his jaw gently so that their eyes were meeting.

“I love you,” Louis said sincerely, his eyes locked on Liam’s. “I really, really do. Always have, always will.”

Liam moved to turn away, but Louis only held him closer. “I’m serious, Li. Do you think I’d want you naked in my sheets if I didn’t?”

Liam shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Love you too,” he said right back, and then he broke free of Louis’ grasp and disappeared into what could only be the bedroom.

Harry couldn’t believe his own eyes when Louis turned back to him with a bright smile and asked, “What do you want in your tea?”

 

Harry _knew_ that he and Louis weren’t exclusive, he really did. And he’d been suspecting this too, Liam and Louis, for a while. But the fact that they’d just stood _right there in front of him_ , freshly fucked, declaring their love for each other like it was completely normal was not something Harry ever would have seen coming.

“I’ll just go,” he told Louis, more forcefully this time, dropping the bag on a nearby chair.

Again, Louis seemed completely shocked at this. “What? I thought you were gonna stay for a bit… Did I do something wrong?”

“’Did I do something wrong’?!” Harry repeated in disbelief before catching himself. “Sorry, that was rude. I don’t have any reason to be angry at you, I really don’t. I just think that, maybe, we’re looking for –“

Harry waved his hands about, desperate for a way to describe this. “-different things? This _thing_ you’ve got with Liam seems pretty fucking intense…I don’t want to be caught in the middle of it.”

_I can’t stand seeing you with someone else._

Louis stood frozen by the kitchen counter, his mouth opening and closing like he was a fish caught on dry land.

“It’s fine,” Harry said again. “It’s completely fine, I just-“

“You think I’m fucking Liam?!” Louis interrupted, and Harry couldn’t help but sigh.

“Well, he’s wandering around your flat completely naked, clearly having spent the night, not to mention the fact that you just now declared your forever lasting love to him while caressing his still _naked_ chest,” Harry rushed. “So, yeah, I’d say you’re fucking him.”

Louis laughed. He threw his head back in a bark of amusement that left him so unstable that he had to hold on to the counter to stay upright.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped though fits of giggles. “This really does look bad, doesn’t it?”

Harry didn’t say anything, waiting for Louis to calm down. When he did, he made his way over to the couch and patted the seat next to him. Harry sat down reluctantly.

“I’m not fucking Liam,” Louis said gravely, taking Harry’s hand. “I never have and I never intend to.”

“Louis-“ Harry protested.

“I know what it looks like, Harry, shit! Let me explain, will you?”

Harry nodded, and Louis curled up on the couch like he was a kid, his expression one of sadness. When he spoke again, it was completely different, his voice hollow.

“Liam came out to his parents last night, and the _fuckers_ -,” Louis took a deep breath, calming himself before he continued. “-kicked him out. Just like that, out on the street. Their own fucking son. Can you believe that?”

Harry really, really couldn’t.

“I mean, it’s _Liam_ ,” Louis insisted. “He’s perfect. Any sane parent would kill to have a kid like him, you know?”

Louis went silent for a long time, plucking at the edge of a blanked draped over the couch.

“That’s why he’s here,” he finally said. “He’s been sleeping here, in the _guest bedroom_ may I add, and he’s going to continue sleeping here until he goes off to UNI.

He’s probably going to be half naked at times, the poor boy needs to shower just as much as the rest of us. I’m going to remind him that I love him every day, always, because I _do_ and he needs to hear that right now. And I’m going to touch him occasionally, and watch silly movies with him, and treat him just like I did two minutes ago because _that’s what friends do_. Because he needs me.”

Louis looked up at Harry.

“And I really hope that doesn’t bother you, because I was kind of hoping you’d be around for a while.”

No one spoke for a really long time as Louis plucked the carpet edge to pieces.

“I’m a shit person,” Harry said eventually, because it was all he could really say at the moment. “I’m a shit, shit, person, and I’m sorry.”

Louis chuckled at that. “Don’t be. I mean, we did kiss once, about eight months ago, so you’re not _that_ far off.”

Harry scowled at Louis’ teasing expression.

“And for the record,” Louis added. “It was the most awkward thing I’ve ever done. Like kissing your own brother.”

Harry couldn’t help but let a “Really?” slip from his lips, smiling at the way Louis shuddered.

“Really,” Louis insisted. “Now are you going to tell me that you’re available too, or are you, like, dating three other people I should know about?”

Harry shook his head shyly. “Just you.”

Louis smiled crookedly, shifting on the couch so that they were facing properly, and suddenly they were incredibly close. “Just me, huh?”

Harry didn’t have time to think before their lips met, Louis’ hand in his curls as he leaned in. This was so different from last time, all the hesitation and gentleness gone. Louis was resting on his elbow, half on top of him, and Harry let his hands find Louis’s waist, gripping tightly and pulling him closer. Just as the kiss was getting rougher, Louis’ tongue swiping Harry’s lips, there was a knock on the door.

Louis pulled away instantly, pressing his forehead against Harrys.

“Fuck,” he muttered, and then he was gone, heading to the door. “Here we go.”

 

It was Zayn, standing outside completely soaked from rain and breathing heavily, and Harry had a feeling he should have seen this coming.

“Is he still here?” Zayn demanded, his voice tight.

“Yeah,” Louis told him quickly. “He’s in the guest room, but I really don’t-“

Louis’ attempt at an explanation fell short when Zayn shouldered past him and into the apartment, heading straight for the door Liam had previously disappeared into. He hesitated, though, when he reached it, looking at the handle for a very long time before deciding to knock instead.

 “Liam?” Zayn called, his voice tender. “Liam, it’s me. Will you let me in?”

There was no response.

“Li?” Zayn tried again. “I know you can hear me.”

“Don’t bother,” Liam murmured. Despite his voice being barely audible, it sounded as if he was standing right against the door on the other side.

Zayn’s eyes were wide as he looked over at Louis for support, but Louis could do nothing but shrug and say, “He won’t talk to me about it either.”

Zayn seemed completely lost for a second, but then his expression changed to one of determination.

“Liam,” he started again, voice just as soft. “You may not want to come out right now, that’s fine. But I want you to listen to me.

What your parents did was shitty, alright? It’s horrible, inexcusable actually, that someone would do something like that to you. I know it hurts, and fuck, you’re allowed to be upset, but I don’t want you to think that this has something to do with you.

Because it doesn’t. No matter how shitty your parents have treated you, that only says something about them. Fuck, Liam, you’re an amazing guy, and you deserve so much better than-“

The door was ripped open then, stunning Zayn into silence. Liam had put clothes on by now, but Harry would have preferred the numb, naked Liam any day to avoid the anger that radiated off this version of him.

“Don’t you _dare_ tell me what I deserve, Zayn,” he spat. “Don’t you _dare_. Not when you’ve spent the last few months making it very clear that you don’t think I deserve anything.”

Zayn made a soft sound, as if to protest, but Liam didn’t let him speak.

“Don’t you get it? You’re right! You’re right to treat me like shit, Zayn, because that’s what my life is gonna be like from now on. I should thank you for the heads up, actually.”

“Liam-”

“It doesn’t matter, you see.  None of it matters anymore. Who cares that I’ve worked my ass off to maintain my grades? Who cares about the hundreds of hours I’ve spent in that shitty school of ours, trying to give the students a voice? Who cares how many of my summers I’ve spent volunteering at that camp for disabled kids?

No one does. No one gives a shit about what kind of person I am, because guess what? Liam Payne likes it up the ass! Liam Payne is a fucking fag! And Liam Payne is going straight to hell!”

Louis was off the couch then, as if to throw himself at Liam, but Zayn beat him to it.

“ _Don’t_ ,” he said, grabbing Liam’s wrist. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

Liam pushed him away, and his anger flared in a way that made Harry want to crawl out the back door. Zayn seemed to understand that he’d overstepped a boundary, because he took two steps back as Liam glared him down.

“You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do,” Liam hissed. “You lost that privilege when you decided I wasn’t worth your time.”

“You’re always worth my-“

“Oh, _please_!” Liam cut him off again, crossing his arms over his chest. “You haven’t texted me in months. You’ve stopped coming to Louis’ games, you don’t talk to me at lunch, hell; you don’t even look at me anymore! All you do is sneak off with Louis, just the two of you, as if I don’t realize. As if I don’t spend my Friday nights alone in my room because the guy I thought was my best friend decided I wasn’t worth the trouble anymore. And you haven’t even told me why! You haven’t even-“

“Because I’ve fallen in love with you!” Zayn shouted, and this time it was Liam’s turn to shut up in surprise as Zayn drew a deep breath. “I fell in love with my best friend, can you imagine how fucking scary that is? I didn’t even know you liked guys until about fifteen minutes ago, when Louis told me. Louis, who I’ve been talking to because he understands! Because he’s fallen just as hopelessly in love with-“

Louis made a strangled sound, and Zayn looked over at the two of them on the couch before returning his gaze to Liam.

“- _people_ before. Hell, what was I supposed to do? I don’t want to lose you! So I figured that if I kept my distance, if I backed off a little, maybe you wouldn’t see it. Maybe you wouldn’t realize how I felt, and then I’d get to keep just a little part of you.”

Zayn’s voice broke at the last part, and he coughed before saying, quietly this time, “I guess that’s kind of fucked up now.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe don't hate me for this? Please?
> 
> xx


	9. Pizza

Liam stared at Zayn.

Liam stared at Zayn and Zayn stared at the floor and no one said anything for a good full minute. Even Louis was rendered speechless beside Harry on the couch, and that was really saying something.

“Are you-,” Liam finally croaked. “You’re fucking with me.”

Zayn visibly shrunk under Liam’s stare, but he did not make a sound.

“Tell me you’re fucking with me, Zayn,” Liam begged.

Zayn looked up at him, his eyes wide and coal black.

“I can’t.”

Liam’s face went blank at that, and then they were both sort of just standing there helplessly, looking at each other.

Harry felt like an intruder just being in the same room as them. This moment was clearly way too private for him to be a part of, so he kept completely silent and tried his best to occupy his thoughts with something else.  Louis apparently didn’t share that thought, because _he_ was the one to break the silence, muttering “Oh, for god’s sake” under his breath.

Liam’s head snapped away from Zayn at that, and he looked over at them like he was only just now realizing their presence in the room. Liam furrowed his eyebrows at Louis for a split second, grabbed Zayn’s hand and then tugged him along into the guest room before slamming the door shut behind them.

“Well,” Louis sighed. “That was about fucking time.”

Aside from a tiny hint of relief in his eyes, he seemed totally unaffected by the scene that had just played out in front of them.

“You knew?”  Harry couldn’t help but ask.

“Knew what?” Louis wondered. “That Zayn is head over heels for Liam? Yes. That Liam’s been suppressing his feelings for Zayn so much that he didn’t even admit it to himself? Yes. That Liam was going to let go and let himself have this? No. I didn’t.”

“Oh,” was the only reply Harry could think of. And then he was sort of hit with the realization that this _thing_ between Liam and Zayn was bigger than he’d thought. He glanced over at the closed bedroom door. “Should we leave? Give them proper privacy?”

Louis laughed and hoisted himself off the couch. “Nah. There’s no point. This place used to belong to a drummer; it’s soundproofed to shit. They could be fucking against the door right now and we would never know.”

Harry went red, but instead of teasing Louis offered him a hand and pulled him to his feet.

“Besides, I kind of promised to make Liam dinner,” Louis smiled. “And according to the rumors you’re a saint in the kitchen. Mind if I take advantage of you?”

Louis cocked an eyebrow at the last part, red lips lifting into a crooked smile and Harry couldn’t help it; he crumbled completely.

“I-, uhm, no, wait-, I mean yes. Yes. Please.”

Harry expected Louis to laugh at him, but instead the older boy lost his teasing expression as he stepped closer, letting their hips brush and putting his lips to Harry’s ear.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered, and Harry shivered against him, his breath growing uneven and his heart racing faster and faster until-

Louis pulled away. It was both a blessing and a curse, because Harry could think again but at the same time he could _think again_ and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.  

“Right, dinner,” Louis said, more to himself than anything, and Harry may have taken some comfort in the shiver of his voice. “I forgot to go grocery shopping yesterday, because, well- you know, so we’ll have to make do with what we’ve got.”

He proceeded to open the fridge, look into it for a good two minutes, and then close it again before turning to Harry with a helpless expression.

“Any suggestions?”

Harry stepped around him, hesitating with a hand on the fridge handle. “Can I-“

“Knock yourself out,” Louis smiled, throwing his arms out for effect. “My kitchen is your kitchen and all that.”

With Louis’ consent, Harry explored both the contents of the fridge and all the cabinets he could find containing food. Louis had been right; there wasn’t much, but Harry still found what he was looking for.

“How does pizza sound?” he asked.

“Fantastic,” Louis said, an edge of sadness in is voice. “But we ate the last one yesterday.”

Harry shook his head, turning to face him. “No, I mean, we could _make_ pizza. You know, from scratch.”

Louis drew his eyebrows together in a confused smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever done that before. You’ll have to teach me.”

 

Harry probably should have taken that comment as a warning, because Louis was truly a _terrible_ cook. He measured completely wrong and ruined the yeast and he just kept spilling everywhere, making a complete mess of both himself and everything around him, including Harry.

By the third time Louis had to kiss away flour somewhere on Harry’s face, he suspected the making a mess-part may have been on purpose. ‘

 

“This is impossible,” Louis whined fifteen minutes later, standing with his hands in the giant lump of pizza-dough. “It won’t do the thing.”

“What thing?”

Louis drew his hands away to motion a balloon expanding. “You know, grow or whatever. I think it’s broken.”

Harry had to keep himself from laughing. “It’s not supposed to do that when you’re working on it. You just have to knead it properly, and then we’ll put it away to let it rise.”

Louis stared at him blankly. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

“No,” Harry responded reflexively. “You’re just new at this.”

Louis’ expression softened. “I may be a terrible cook, but you’re a terrible liar.” His hand went to smack the piece of dough. “I give up.”

He was standing there all flustered; his flat hair messy and full of flour. The flour was on his face, too, and down his t-shirt, covering the red and white stripes. His lips were twisted into a pout that Harry desperately wanted to kiss away. There was no way around it: he looked adorable.

“Let me show you,” Harry offered.

When Louis didn’t protest, Harry went to stand behind him, letting his chest cover Louis’ back. His arms draped Louis’ smaller ones, their fingertips gushing as Harry grabbed the dough and made Louis knead it. If Harry’s heart raced twice as fast because of their closeness, so be it. He was teaching Louis, right? This was allowed.

Louis was patient and willing to let Harry guide him for about two minutes, and then he threw the dough back into the bowl. Before Harry could react he had twisted around, and then he was sitting on the counter, Harry standing in between his legs.

“I change my mind,” Louis rushed, pulling Harry in by his curls and crushing their lips together. When he spoke next, his voice was muffled against Harry’s mouth. “I fucking love cooking.”

 

They finished the pizza somehow, in between innocent and not-so-innocent kisses. Louis tried to give up several times, jumping up on the counter and teasing Harry until he surrendered too, dropping whatever spatula he was holding to let Louis kiss the sense out of him.

It didn’t take long before Harry decided he loved the kitchen counter, which allowed them to be the same height as well as teaching Harry how Louis’ legs felt wrapped around him. _So what_ if he moaned out loud in the middle of the kitchen. That was so _not_ his fault.

Zayn and Liam stayed hidden in their little room until Louis practically forced them out by slamming his fists at the door and yelling phrases Harry never would dare repeat in front of his mother.

At last, when the pizza was on the table and on its way to being cold, Liam pulled the door open and the two of them stumbled out. They were careful not to touch each other, but Liam’s neck was full of love bites and Zayn’s quiff completely out of order.

“Am I allowed to comment on this?” Louis demanded when they sat down, his eyes flickering between Liam and Zayn.

Liam went red and looked down at the same times as Zayn said, “No.”

“You know I’ll force the details out of Liam as soon as you leave tonight,” Louis teased.

Zayn smiled. “What if I don’t leave tonight?”

Liam completely lost his posture for a second, his voice cracking when he said, “This pizza is delicious, Harry.”

“Thank you,” Harry said. “I had lots of help from Lou, though.”

Louis just laughed and kept running his foot up Harry’s leg. 


	10. Closed doors (Zayn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THIS:
> 
> Hey! Sorry for caps-locking like a maniac, but here's the thing; This chapter is kinda Zayn's point of view, and I felt the need to explain myself first :)  
> It is that way because a reader wanted to know more about what went on between our lovely Ziam couple, and who am I to deny you readers anything?
> 
> (Yes, I will practically do everything you tell me to like a little bitch, because I love you guys for actually reading this)

ZAYN

Liam released his hand as soon as the door closed behind them, and then went straight for the opposite wall, keeping as much distance between them as the small room allowed. All Zayn could do through his nerves was watch as Liam fell apart; his tangle of curls first pressed against the wall in frustration, then buried in his hands in defeat. The only thing that kept Zayn from fleeing the scene was that Liam didn't seem frustrated at him, but at himself. And that was sort of confusing, given the situation.

Zayn allowed Liam to go on with his freak out as long as he needed to, and finally Liam drew a deep breath and looked at him, eyes zeroing in on Zayn's face like he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. But he was still silent, and suddenly the room was too quiet to handle.

"I'm sorry," Zayn spat without meaning to. "I'm sorry, Liam, I really am. I fucked up. Can't we just forget about-"

Before he could finish, Liam was on him, pushing him up against the wall and pressing their lips togehter in desperation. Zayn's breath htched in surprise, but Liam's mouth was far too distracting for him to do anything but kiss him back, thoughts and reason forgotten as Zayn put his arms around Liam's neck and pulled him even closer. 

And then Liam was gone again in a second, stepping away and throwing a hand over his own mouth.

"Shit," he mumbled, eyes wide open in surprise.

But Zayn was far too done with this bullshit.

"Liam," he asked softly, mirroring Liam's steps so that they were close, but not touching. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know," Liam admitted in a wisper. "But I think I've been wanting to do that since forever."

Zayn's heart definetely didn't flutter. It did not.

"You think?" he asked.

Liam bit his lip. "I know. Since that first time you showed me your scetchbook and even though everyhting you'd created was amazing you still wanted my opinion and your eyes were all wide concern and you were wearing that white sweater of yours and your hair was completely undone and it was snowing outside and I realized I was fucked."

There was only chaos after that. Zayn wasn't sure how they managed to end up on the bed, or how many times he let his mouth mark Liam's neck, or just how long their lips were pressed together. All he knew was this:

It was right. It was everything falling into place. It was fireworks erupting in a million different colors, it was stupid love songs finally making sense, and it was all Zayn ever could have wished for. 

Liam was beautiful beneath him, and then teasing on top of him, and Zayn wasn't sure what he liked best, but everything was Liam and that was enough. Zayn just wanted to stay here in Louis' silly guestroom for the rest of forever, Liam's hands in his hair like he was afraid of him pulling away. Zayn wanted to tell him never, he was never going to pull away.

"Fucking christ," he gasped instead, because while Zayn both understood and loved the power of language, Liam was making a mess out of him and his brain sort of short-circuited.

"Zayn," Liam replied softly, and it was almost like he didn't mean for it to slip out.

It made Zayn crazy, that's what it did, hearing his name on Liam's lips like that, and maybe that's what caused him to tug at the other boys shirt.

"Zayn," Liam said again, but this time it was deliberately, his voice uncertain.

Zayn drew back his hand immediately, meeting Liam's eyes before looking away quickly. His cheeks burned in embarrasment, or maybe it was regret, he didn't even know anymore.

"Yours off, too," Liam suggested simply, and it took Zayn a minute to realize what he meant. 

When he did, though, he sat back at once, tugging at his shirt until it was halfway off and-

Someone almost banged the door down.

"Dinner's on the table, loverboys," Louis shouted, and the banging continued.

Zayn huffed out in annoyance and sat up, pulling his shirt back on and looking down at Liam. He hadn't realised until now that he was actually straddeling the other boy, and the thought didn't particularly help him in his attempt to downplay his current arousal.

"Maybe if we stay completely silent, he'll go away," Liam suggested hopefully.

Zayn doubted this, briefly wondering if Liam even knew Louis at all, but he wasn't about to protest on staying in this bed as long as possible.

So instead of listening to the world's most impatient best mate, now shouting profanities at the top of his lungs, he put his hands on either side of Liam's beatiful face and leaned down to kiss him once more.

"Liam James Payne, if you don't open this door right now, I'm never letting our dear Zaynie hang out here ever again. And this is your home now, so suck it up and come eat. Harry worked his ass off with the food, you're being rude."

Zayn sighed and pulled back from Liam with one last kiss before standing up. He knew Louis was bullshitting, he'd never actually kick him out for good, but he might stay true to his word for a week or two if he was mad enough, and that was just not a risk Zayn was willing to take.

He was almost at the door when Liam tugged at his arm, causing him to turn around.

"What do we tell him?" Liam asked, his voice half a wisper despite the fact that it was completely unnecessary.

Zayn couldn't resist putting a hand against Liam's cheek and stealing a kiss before answering. Because he could do that now. He could kiss Liam.

"What do you want to tell him?"

Liam thought for a second. "Could we-, you know, talk about this, just the two of us first? And then we'll tell them?"

Zayn could feel the warmth of Liam's blush against his hand.

"Of course. Anything you want."

 

Dinner with Harry and Louis was, surprisingly enough, and after five minutes of horrible embarrassment, a blast. Zayn had seen Louis talk about Harry before, he'd even seen them together briefly, but the joy shining off Louis then was nothing against seeing him now. He could barely keep his eyes off the younger boy, his usual sassy remarks and general moodyness just a faint memory. It should annoy Zayn, the way Louis almost fell over himself in his attempts to please Harry, but truth be told he'd never before seen Louis act like this with anybody. 

Louis was happy, and therefore Zayn was happy too. Besides, Harry was so oblivious to Louis' adoration it actually made Zayn have to cover his laughter a few times.

Harry left when the clock turned eight with a quiet, "See you, guys."

Louis dipped him goodbye, he actually fucking wrapped his arms around Harry's much longer body and dipped him over in a kiss straight out of a Hollywood-movie.

Harry seemed as surprised at this as Zayn was, stumbling out of the door looking equal parts embarrassed and dazzled. 

Louis closed the door behind him with a heavy sigh, and then threw himself down on the couch opposite Zayn and Liam. 

"He's ruined me," he complained loudly, throwing a hand over his face. "Did you see what I just did? What the hell even was that?"

"Uhm, romantic?" Liam suggested, and Louis shot him a death-glare.

Zayn laughed loudly, tightening his grip around Liam's shoulder.

"You never should have went and tracked down that bakery," he chuckled. "Niall told you it was a bad idea."

"Irish also told me he was straight," Louis reminded him. "Dead on, that guy."

"That's not true," Zayn protested. "I believe his exact words were 'I don't fucking know, why would you think he's into dudes?' And that was like a month ago."

"Wait a second," Liam interrupted, eyes darting between Zayn and Louis. "You never told me that Niall didn't want you to hit on Harry. Why would he say that?"

"Because he thought I was going to fuck his best mate over," Louis groaned into a couch cussion. "Which is ridiculous, because it's obviously the other way around. But he backed off last week, even covered for me when I ditched practice on monday."

"Wether he's fucked you over or not, I like him," Liam smiled. "He seems really nice. Not to mention his cooking skills, which i desperately hope will rub off on you."

Louis sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, looking at Liam like he was a child who didn't understand basic math.

"Of course he's nice, that's the fucking problem. He's pretty and charming and shy and adorable and I don't know what to do with myself!  He's only seventeen, and he has to bend down to be able to kiss me! What is that?"

"Hilarious," Zayn teased. 

Louis' only reaction to this was throwing him the finger and buring his head even further into the couch cushions.

"Fucking Harry Styles," he muttered into the fabric. "Fucking two years younger, dimpled, giant Harry Styles."

And Zayn couldn't help it; "But that's exactly what you want to do, isn't it?"


	11. Full table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back to Harry :)

When Harry rushed down and through the kitchen the next morning, too late for school as usual, he found Anne smiling widely at him from her place at the kitchen table.

"There's a car out front," she said, gauging his reaction.

Harry stopped in his tracks, the refridgerator door still in one hand.

"A car?" he asked, because why on earth would there be a car out front right now? And if there was, why would it have anything to do with him?

Niall had yet to pass his drivers test, and the only other person Harry could think of that would come popping by was his sister.

"Gemma's home from UNI? That's odd."

He finally closed the fridge and turned to his mother, who was now full on grinning.

"It's not Gemma, sweetie. I don't recognize the car at all, thought maybe you would. Red, old mercedes?"

Oh. OH.

"So you do know who it is, then," Anne stated when Harry turned red. 

"Yeah," he admitted slowly, warmth filling him at the thought of Louis being right outside, until hos mother opened her mouth again.

"Is it a girl?"

And bang, it was gone. The butterflies in his stomach turned to chunks of ice, reminding him of everything he was keeping from her. Keeping from everyone. He swallowed thickly, wanting nothing more that to be straight with her, but what came out of his mouth was just a choked cough. He couldn't do this alone. But he had to say something, so he closed his eyes for a second before forcing out,

"No." And then, because even though he felt downright shitty he knew that she was just trying to be nice, he added; "It's probably just Louis, he's a friend of mine."

"Louis," Anne repeated, studying his expression for a second before turning back to her breakfast. "That's nice. You better not keep him waiting. Have a good day at school, honey."

Harry left his house with a queasy feeling that quickly dissapeared when he reached the car and saw Louis leaning out of the window.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Louis smiled. "Thought I'd offer you a ride."

Harry smiled in return but hesitated.

"I'd love to, but I'm kinda already-"

"I texted Niall half an hour ago," Louis cut in, like he was reading Harry's mind. "Asked if he wanted me to pick him up too, but he said to just go ahead and get you."

All Harry could do was laugh and get in. "You really do think of everything. Thank you."

 

The drive to school was usually a short one, and it seemed even shorter in Louis' presence. Before Harry knew it they were in the parking lot, kids everywhere rushing to class. They both exited the car simontaneously, and it took Harry a minute to realize why everything suddenly felt so different;

Louis didn't reach for him the way he usually did. In fact, Louis made sure to keep a more than reasonable amount of distance between them at all times as they crossed the lot. He smiled at Harry and continued conversation like nothing had happened, sure, but there was no passion left in him. 

It took Harry another minute to understand just why Louis was acting like this, and then it hit him like a train.

Louis was doing this because Harry had told him to. Because before they even were - whatever they were-, Harry had made it pretty damn clear that he wasn't all out of the closet yet. He didn't want to be.

At least that's what he'd told Louis. At least that's what he'd thought. But now, walking two feet away from Louis and not having his hand in his felt nothing but awful. 

And then, before Harry had enough time to dig a hole right there in the ground and dissapear completely, they were splitting up.

Louis lifted his hand in a wave and said, "See you at lunch."

And that was it.

Harry watched him walk away, wondering if he should run after him. If he should jump Louis from behind and kiss him, let everyone in this stupid school know that the most beautiful boy in the world was his.

He didn't.

 

Liam Payne was braver than Harry. Liam Payne entered the cafeteria hand in hand with Zayn, less than fifty hours after being kicked out of his own home. And he smiled doing it. 

They both did, Zayn and Liam. Even though everyone turned to look at them. Some 'aaawed', some laughed, and some even had the guts to shout out both blessings and curses. 

As they walked by their regular table, one of their friends stood up. Or, at least Harry had thought he was a friend of theirs before he spat out;

"I told you that faggot Tomlinson was going to spread this shit. But you, Liam, out of all people? I never had you picked as a little cockslut."

Harry sank back in his chair just as Zayn leaped forward, his fist only inches from the guys face when Liam caught him and held him back. Harry had a nasty feeling that if it had been anyone but Liam restraining him, Zayn would have knocked that someone to the ground to get to the guy that had just insulted Liam.

But it was Liam holding him back, and it was also Liam who spun Zayn around in his grip and kissed him forcefully; Knotting his fingers in Zayn's hair and pressing their lips together. When he finally pulled back, Liam simply winked at his previous lunchbuddy, tucked an arm around Zayn's waist and walked away. 

Harry was still the only one at his table when they made their way over.

"Don't mention that shit to Louis," Liam insisted as soon as they sat down. "He'll go batshit crazy and get expelled again."

"Maybe he wouldn't-" Harry tried, but one simple look from Liam shut him up. "Sure, of course."

Harry was about to ask if they'd seen Louis when he noticed something happening at the table Liam had just stunned to silence. A guy, Harry didn't know his name, had stood up and grabbed his food, clearly attempting to leave. Several of the girls at the table grabbed on to him and shook their heads, but the guy simply shrugged them off and crossed the cafeteria. 

Harry saw him coming, but Liam and Zayn did not, which caused Liam to jump almost out of his seat when the guy sat down next to him.

"Doug may or may not get both his eyes poked out by drumsticks when he sleeps sweetly tonight, how does that sound to you guys?" The new guy asked. 

"Perfect," Zayn muttered, and Harry may have nodded in agreement.

"You didn't have to do that, Josh," Liam said instead, eying the guy apologetically. "This isn't your fight."

"Do what?" the guy challenged. "Leave? As if I'm ever hanging out with those fuckers ever again. Trust me, Liam, we're all better off."

Liam sighed but didn't reply, and the new guy - Josh- let his eyes drift to Harry.

"Right, hey," new guy greeted him. "Guess we're all invading your table this week, sorry about that. I'm Josh."

Harry couldn't help but like him already.

"Harry," he replied. "And it's all good, would have done excactly the same."

"You would have done what, Harry?" someone asked, and then Louis was sitting down on the bench beside him. "Hi, loverboys. And Josh too, apparently."

Before Harry could think of a good enough response, Niall was there as well.

"What's up, guys?" he asked cheerfully. He and Josh shared a complicated bro-greeting that Harry understood absolutely none of, before Niall dumped down on the free spot beside Harry. 

"Oh," he said after a while, only just then noticing Liam and Zayn's entwined fingers on top of the table. "Huh. Can't say I saw that one coming. Good for you, guys."

And with a small shrug, Niall continued eating. Zayn stared at him in surprise, Liam smiled happily into his food, and Harry caugh himself wishing that everyone in this silly world could be as chill as Niall Horan.

 

Lunch was fantastic. The six of them got along instantly, joking and laughing over chunks of food while completely forgetting that they were in the middle of a cafeteria. For the first time, Harry actually felt like he had friends. Well, friends besides Niall, anyways. 

Lunch was horrible. Louis sat two inches from him, close enough for Harry to smell his familiar aftershave and have their shoulders brush several times. He could feel the undeniable pull, the pull he always got towards Louis whenever they were close, but this time none of them acted on it. It was physically uncomfortable for Harry not to lay a hand on Louis' thigh as he ate,  or kiss his cheek when he told that one joke, or even just generally did anything. 

As soon as the bell went off, so did Harry, rushing to class and away from Louis before he could do something really, really stupid. 

 

The rest of the week passed like that. Louis picked him up and kissed him good morning, and then they were 'mates' as soon as the mercedes pulled up in front of school. Louis went home that weekend and they were stuck with hour long phone calls and three-in-the-morning-texts. Harry hated everything.

The second week passed much like the first one; Louis was getting more and more busy with school work before his final exams, and Harry tried his best to be content with their morning drives, which was the only time of day they got to be alone.

"I'm done," Louis announced thursday morning. "If I don't take a break from schoolwork soon I'm going to shoot myself by the end of this week."

"So take a break," Harry suggested. "You deserve it, you've been working really hard."

Louis smiled. "You're tempting me. But, yeah, that's what I was thinking too. Do you wanna come over today? I kinda miss you."

Harry had to lean over and peck his cheek. 

"I kinda miss you too. Do you want me to make us dinner?"

Louis sighed in amusement. "Only if you let me do the dishes this time."

 

Louis didn't do the dishes. But he didn't let Harry do them either, choosing to pile them up on the counter and insist that 'Liam will help me when he gets home'.

"Come sit with me," Louis said when they were done, collapsing on the couch.

Harry did, taking the only space that was left due to Louis slinging his feet everywhere.

"Not like that, what are you doing all the way over there?" Louis protested. "Come here."  
   
Harry blushed and moved, but the only possible way for him to get closer was to lay in the other boy's lap. He hesitated for a second, but then Louis pulled out the puppydog eyes and before Harry knew it he was halfway on top of him.

"That's better," Louis smiled, wrapping his arms around Harry's much larger frame, and Harry couldn't help but agree. This was definetely better.

They lay in silence for a while, Louis' fingers slowly running through Harry's curls before he cleared his throath.

"Listen,  I've been thinking..." Louis began slowly, and Harry instantly panicked. "We should talk."

"Oh god," Harry squeaked.

One would have to be very dumb not to fear the sentence 'we should talk', and while Harry may have been socially inadequate, he was far from dumb.

Or maybe he was a little dumb, after all, because he did turn around and bury his head in Louis' chest, when at the same time preparing for being shoved away.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized into the fabric of Louis' shirt. "I know I've been horrible at school. I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry, I'll-"

"Harry!" Louis interrupted, his voice unreadable.

"What?"

Louis put a hand to Harry's cheek and tilted his chin up, making their eyes meet, and Harry could see what emotion Louis was portraying - upset.

"Why on earth are you apologizing?" Louis asked, and his voice was so soft. "Harry, I wasn't thinking about school at all. But when we are talking about it, didn't I tell you that I don't mind in the slightest?"

"Yes," Harry admitted, feeling like a child. "But we've barely seen eachother lately, and it's my fault. If what we're doing right now sucks this much for me, it must be horrible for you, and I don't want that. You don't deserve that."

Louis kissed him chastely and Harry relaxed a bit, figuring that whatever this was they were going to 'talk about', it couldn't be too bad.

"I said I'd wait with you, and I will," Louis insisted. "And then, when you're ready, I'll be right there beside you to face all those motherfuckers. In the meantime, I'm plenty happy having you all to myself like this."

And then Louis kissed him again and tightened his arms around him, as if making a point.

"You really shouldn't start a conversation using the words 'we should talk'," Harry muttered when he had his lips to himself again. "Did you really expect me not to panic?"

"I said that?" Louis asked, eyes wide. "Shit, proves how nervous I am. Sorry, those were definetely the wrong words. I was just-, Well, I was gonna ask you something, but it's kinda hard and-"

He trailed off, one hand leaving Harry's hair so he could mess up his own. 

This was probably a good time for Harry to say something soothing, but he was way to confused to say anything at the moment, so they both stayed silent until Louis spoke up again.

"What are we?" he asked.

Harry choked on pure air. "You mean, as in us?" 

Louis nodded. Harry panicked for the second time in five minutes.

"I - don't - know," he stuttered. 

Louis frowned at that. Looked down at him. Took a deep breath.

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

Harry figured it would take some time to shout 'Yes!' at the top of his lungs a thousand times, so he settled for smiling and putting his lips against Louis'. 

"Is that a yes?" Louis muffled against his mouth.

"That's a 'Why was that a question and not a statement, you fool'."

Louis laughed. Harry blushed. And then there was only kissing, kissing until the dark fell and Liam came stumbling through the door (sporting the worlds most obvious hickey) and did the dishes without question.      


	12. Welcome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies for the long wait, especially to Desiree (This was way more than 'a couple of hours'.)

The first thing Harry did when he came home that night, after Louis had insisted on driving him only to initiate a make out session right there in the car that turned out to last a hell of a lot longer than it should've, was to call Niall.

"Hey Harry, what's-"

"We're together," Harry had wispered, and Niall got it right away.

"Really? Like, together-together?"

"Mhm. Boyfriends."

Harry could hear Niall breathe out in surprise. "Well, damn. 'Bout time, really, young Harold. Your first boyfriend. Should I make you a cake?"

"Niall!"

He laughed. "I'm kidding. Really. I'm happy for you. Congrats and all that. I'll never admit that I said this, but you guys are adorable as fuck."

Harry couldn't help but laugh too. "Thanks?"

"You're very welcome. But I'm really fucking tired, so you'll have to give me all the juicy details tomorrow. Sounds good?"

"Sounds good," Harry agreed. "Goodnight."

"'Night." Niall yawned. "I love you."

"You're clingy when you're tired, did you know?"

"Oh, fuck off. You know you love me too." And with that, Niall hung up the phone.

"How do you feel about children?" Louis asked the next morning.

The question took Harry completely by surprise, because, really, what kind of question is that for a nineteen year old gay guy to ask his boyfriend?

"Uhm, I haven't really thought about it... Bit early, don't you think?"

Louis looked over at him for a split second before bursting into laughter. 

"I really need to learn how to phrase myself better," he chuckled. "I meant children as a general. You know, other peoples kids."

"Oh." Harry said, relaxing. "In that case, absolutely love them. Why do you ask?"

Louis hesitated before answering, his eyebrows furrowing. "My mum called me last night, turns out she and and dad are taking a 'spontaneous romantic trip' this weekend. In other words, I'm stuck babysitting my sisters all alone, and I just figured I'd ask you if you wanted to suffer with me."

Harry swallowed. 

"You mean come with you back home, or?"

"Yeah," Louis nodded. "But don't worry, my parents won't be there, so you don't have to worry about all of that or anything. And it's really just the twins we have to actually take care of."

"That sounds like fun," Harry said, and he meant it. "But I don't see how I'm supposed to get home tonight. It's a bit far, innit?"

He looked over at Louis just quickly enough to catch the other boy surpress a grin.

"Well, what if you don't get home tonight? You could get back on, say, sunday? With me."

"You want me to stay over?" Harry asked, hating himself when his voice was almost a wisper. "Like, the entire weekend?"

And, fuck, that really made his mind wander to all the wrong places. Places where he would get to see Louis absolutely all day, and learn how he looked in the mornings with his eyes all squinty and his pj's still on (If he wore pj's, that is. Maybe he didn't. Harry certainly wanted to find out.) And maybe even places where Harry would get to go to sleep with Louis' arms wrapped around him, if only for a little weekend. 

"Yeah," Louis said. "But I'll have to be a responsible big brother at the same time, so no secret dirty intentions, I swear."

Harry wanted to tell Louis that he wouldn't mind dirty intentions in the slightest, but maybe that was a conversation best suited for another time.

When Harry didn't reply, Louis looked over at him with concern. 

"Hey, it was only a suggestion," Louis insisted. "You really don't have to do it if you don't want to. Just forget I even said anything."

Harry chuckled. "As if I'm going to say no. When do we leave?"

The grin Louis shot him in return was breathtaking. 

After an incredibly horrible day at school, Harry rushed home (Louis wasn't free until two hours later) and packed a bag. He called his mom and explained to her that 'My friend Louis needs help minding his sisters', and she had no second thoughts in saying yes, just like Harry had expected. He could hear by the sound of her voice that she was happy, happy that he was finally making friends, and there was only the slightest pinch of guilt in him when he hung up. 

Louis picked him up directly from school, and then they were off. The drive wasn't actually that long, just long enough that driving it two times a day would be considered a pain in the ass. They spent the trip talking, Harry trying to repeat what Louis had told him about his sisters. 

He decided to start with the obvious. "Okay, so there's four of them, and they're all younger than you."

"Yeah."

Harry hesitated. "And have you told them anything... about us?"

Louis bit his lip, a nervous habit Harry was starting to realize he had. "Eh, well, the thing is that- I sort of told them about you before we started dating. I haven’t told them that we're together, obviously, but they know that I'm crushing on you really bad."

"You told them that?" Harry asked, blushing. 

Louis chuckled. "I tell them everything. Well, not everything. I may have forgotten to mention the fact that you're coming with me today."

"Oh."

Shit.

Louis' home turned out to be a little brick townhouse in a neighborhood full of other little brick houses, and Harry loved it instantly. It was still daylight when they pulled up out front, Louis taking Harry's bag from him before he could protest, and made their way to the door. 

Louis rang the doorbell instead of using a key, an act Harry found strange until the door was ripped open by a girl that looked so much like Louis it was almost scary, and her jaw dropped.

"Louis!" She exclaimed, hugging him tightly before hitting him in the arm. "You're early, you prick! I haven't even finished dinner yet, and-"

Her eyes had finally went around her brother to find Harry, and seeing him seemed to be surprising enough to shut her up for a good five seconds. Her eyes flicked between the two of them before she found her voice.

"Who is this?" She asked, and Louis cleared his throat.

"Uhm, Harry; this is Fizzy. Fizzy; this is Harry."

"Oh," said Fizzy. 

"Hi," said Harry.

She laughed, turning back to Louis. "I know you said he was attractive, but damn. A little warning would've been nice."

"Fizzy!" Louis wined, but the girl waved him off with a flick of her hand.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said. "In no way did I mean to objectify you. I was simply pointing out my brothers seemingly improved taste in men."

She stepped aside to let them into the hallway, shouting at the top of her lungs,

"Girls! Louis' here."

Louis barely had time to kick out of his shoes before he was attacked by a cloud of blonde hair and pink dresses. The two small girls practically jumped him, and Louis let himself fall to the ground with an unconvincing scream of shock. He let them hug him tightly for a moment before wrapping one arm around each twin and popping them on his hip as he stood up. He shouldn’t have been able to do that so easily, Harry thought, because the girls were definitely not toddlers anymore, but maybe there’s a certain practice that comes with raising twins.

“Girls, I want you to meet someone special,” Louis told them, walking over to where Harry had finally managed to kick of his shoes. “This is my friend Harry, he’s the one with the curls I told you about.”

One of the girls took a quick look at Harry before burying her head in Louis’ neck and squealing. The other one smiled and said,

“Phoebe is shy. I’m Daisy.”

She waved at him, and he couldn’t help but wave back.

“I’m shy too,” he told the girl hiding in Louis’ neck, and she looked at him hesitantly.

“You are?”

“Mhm.” He nodded. “Fingers crossed. Just ask Louis.”

She looked over at Louis for confirmation, and when her brother nodded in agreement, she squirmed out of his arms and ran over to Harry.

“I like you,” she declared, and then she threw her arms around his waist.

Harry insisted that he liked her too, and when he looked up at Louis again, the other boy was staring at the two of them in fascination. Harry ached to know why he looked so surprised, but he didn’t get an explanation until the twins had run upstairs to finfish their game and him and Louis joined Fizzy in the kitchen.

“I’ve never seen her warm up that quickly to anyone before,” Louis told him, shaking his head. “Who _are_ you?”

Harry shrugged and tried to hide his smile. He had been really nervous about meeting Louis’ sisters – they were so important to him-, and he was still shocked that things were going this good.

“I’m just glad they didn’t hate me.”

“Hate you? Are you kidding me? The twins adore you already.”

“I adore you, too,” Fizzy said from her place by the stove. “If that’s of any importance. And I’m pretty sure my brother’s-”

Louis turned around and chucked an apple at her. “You-,” he demanded. “Need to shut up. And where the hell is Lottie, by the way?”

Fizzy just ducked away from the flying apple like it was a habit and giggled. “She’s at a _boy’s_ house.”

“ _A boy_?” Louis raised his eyebrows. “That’s interesting. What do we know about this boy?”

She hummed for a second before answering. “He’s twenty, I think, just a bit older than you. His name is Jonathan, and he’s got this awesome bike that he lets her sit on the back of all the time. I don’t really like him, ‘cause he smells like weed, but he’s got all these facial piercings, though, so he is kinda hot I guess.”

The look on Louis’ face was priceless, and that must have been exactly what Fizzy had been going for, because she threw her head back and started laughing.

“Oh my god, breathe, you dumbass! I’m joking.”

“That-, was not funny,” Louis spat.  “I’m going to-“

“What wasn’t funny?” someone asked, and Harry had to look twice at the girl standing in the doorway, because weren’t the little ones supposed to be the twins? The only reason he was able to tell that this girl wasn’t Fizzy was the fact that there was two of them in the same room.

The girl noticed him them, and she smiled.

“Harry,” she greeted him. “Right?”

He nodded.

“I’m Lottie. Did you know my brother has your face printed on his linens, so that he can sleep with you _every single night_?”

“I do not!” Louis screamed. “You little shit!”

She giggled. “You might as well have. ‘Harry’s so cute’, ‘He’s sooo hot’, ‘I want to live in his curls’.”

Louis was glaring daggers at her, but either the girl didn’t notice or she didn’t care, because she kept going happily.

“’I think Harry might have looked at me at lunch’, ‘Do you think I should talk to him?’, ‘Harry, Harry, Harry.”

She finished her Louis-impression with a dramatic wave of her arms. “I see you managed to finally talk to him. Good for you, he really is – What was the phrase you used?- sex on legs, I think.”

Louis seemed to have had enough then, because he shot out of his chair and flipped her off. “Come on, Harry, I’ll take your bag to my room.”

Harry would have laughed along with Louis’ sisters as they left the kitchen if it wasn’t for the suddenly growing hollowness in his tummy at the words ‘your bag, my room.’

Neither of them said a word as they climbed the stairs and Louis led him through the right door and into his bedroom.

“I didn’t say all that,” Louis insisted as the door shut behind them, throwing himself down on the bed.

 _The_ bed- Not several beds, not bunk bed, not even a double bed.

“We’re sharing a room?”

Louis rolled onto his back and looked at him. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Unless you wanna sleep somewhere else?”

And then he motherfucking pouted. Harry was positively fucked. 


	13. Bows and flowercrowns

Dinner with the Tomlinson siblings was everything dinner with Anne wasn’t; Loud, messy and confusing. Harry loved it. There was blabbering and shouting and food being passed around the table again and again and again, and at the end of the meal he found himself wondering why on earth he’d been afraid to meet these girls. They were absolutely wonderful; included him in conversation, but didn’t pressure him to talk. Phoebe had even insisted on sitting next to him, and maybe a seven year olds approval shouldn’t be a major confidence boost, but it was.

“So, Louis, there’s this thing,” Lottie started in a lonely moment of quietness. “I was going to hang out with some friends tomorrow night, so I won’t be home. Is that alright?”

It was too light, the tone of her voice, too innocent. Louis’ eyes narrowed.

“And when you say ‘friends’, you mean boys.”

“I didn’t-“she caught his gaze and gave up before even trying. “Yeah, fine. Boys. A boy. Does it matter?”

Louis chuckled. “I just want you to be honest with me. Of course you can go. But I want his name, and I’m going to pick you up before ten.”

“Eleven,” Lottie challenged. “It’s just my friend Eric.”

Louis chuckled. “I like him, I think he’s scared of me. Ten thirty, then. I’m not going to let you spend the night with some boy.”

“Like Harry’s spending the night here?”

Harry froze at her question, along with the three other girls, leaving them all silent witnesses of Louis and Lottie’s staring competition. Harry felt Louis’ hand on his thigh beneath the table, squeezing gently.

“I am five years older than you,” Louis explained slowly. “When you’re nineteen, I’m going to let you have as many girls or boys or whatever over as you want. Right now, though, I’m going to pick you up at ten thirty. And you’re doing the dishes tonight, too. Don’t sass me.”

To Harry’s surprise, Lottie laughed. “Come on, how could you not have seen that coming? But fine, pick me up. Whatever.”

Her agreement broke up the dinner, and as he stood Harry felt a tug on his sweater. He turned around to find the twins smiling hopefully.

“Do you want to play with us?” Phoebe asked. “Please?”

Harry didn’t even need a second to consider it. “Yeah! I’m just gonna help clean up first, alright?”

They both nodded, but before Harry could do anything productive the three of them were shoved out of the kitchen by Louis, who claimed he didn’t need any help at all. The twins lead Harry into the living room and sat down right beside a bright red plastic box.

“We’re playing hair saloon,” Daisy told him. “And you gotta be the customer.”

The two girls showed him a chair where he was supposed to sit down, and then went back to the box and pulled out all sorts of hair elastics and bows and headbands.

“We’re going to fix you up, so you have to sit very still,” Phoebe said.

And Harry did. He sat still as a statue as the two girls attacked his hair. Pretty soon his curls were corrupted by bows and stars and god knows what- he was pretty sure they threw glitter in there at some point- and he loved it. It seemed the girls took the task of his hair very seriously, because they both worked in complete silence, sometimes sticking their tongue out a little or biting their lip.

When they announced that his hairdo was done, there was a little giggling before they decided to ask if they could do his nails too. Frankly, Harry saw no reason to object when they brought out the pink nail polish; the twins were practically glowing in excitement, and right then that was all that mattered.

He was sitting with both his hands outstretched to let the color dry when he noticed Louis leaning against the doorway, looking at him like he was trying to figure something out, but couldn’t.

“Hey,” Harry said. “How long have you been standing there?”

Louis smiled fondly at him, but didn’t answer his question. “What are you doing?”

“We’re playing hair saloon,” Daisy told him, like that was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry nodded solemnly. “I’m the customer.”

Louis smiled even wider at that, looking between his sisters and Harry, all done up.

“Why are you staring?” Harry didn’t understand why Louis looked so happy all of a sudden.

“I wasn’t-“Louis shook his head. “I mean, it’s nothing, it’s just- Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of amazing?”

Harry felt pinker than his nail polish.

 

The thing is, Harry wasn’t a pajama-fond person. He slept either naked or in his boxers, and up until this point in his life that hadn’t been a problem. Maybe that’s why the uncertainty hit him like a brick when he was standing in Louis’ bathroom that night, the scenery reminding him intensely about the first time he’d been in Louis’ flat and gotten clothes to borrow. The girls had all gone to bed hours ago, and after Harry had stifled yawn after yawn on the couch, Louis insisted they should turn in to. Which is why Harry ended up in the bathroom with no clue what to do, pulling out the sweatpants he’d packed and eyeing them.

It was such a silly thing to worry about, but truth be told Harry wasn’t all that experienced with these kinds of things. The only person he’d ever slept in the same room with was Niall, but Niall was so much like family it didn’t count. This was different. This was way different.

He allowed himself to think the decision over as he brushed his teeth, but finally his self-consciousness got the best of him, and he pulled on the sweatpants and a loose tank top, hoping that he wouldn’t get too hot.

Louis was already in bed when Harry returned to the room, leaning on his elbows as the picture of relaxation. “Hey you.”

Harry climbed in beside him without a second though, and Louis smiled before throwing an arm around his waist and pulling him close. Only then did Harry catch on to the fact that Louis certainly wasn’t wearing anything but boxers. Regret washed through him as he realized they could have been skin against skin now if it wasn’t for his stupid clothes.

They lay in silence as Louis played with Harry’s hands, treading their fingers together only to break them apart and repeat the action slowly. Harry almost fell asleep right then, Louis’ touch was so comforting, but he forced himself to stay awake; he wouldn’t miss a second of this.

“You’ve still got nail polish on,” Louis whispered into his neck.

Harry couldn’t help but let a chuckle slip through his lips. “Yeah. Do you like it?”

Louis seemed to contemplate this for a second, but Harry couldn’t see his face, so he wasn’t entirely sure. “I like _you_.”

He seemed so tired all of a sudden, his warm breath gushing over Harry’s neck as he wiggled his body around, trying to get comfortable.

“Aren’t you warm?” Louis asked, and yes; Harry was almost sweating already. He was fully clothed under a massive duvet, and on top of that Louis’ presence made it even hotter.

Harry nodded. Louis pulled at the string of his sweats. “I think you should take these off.”

And so Harry did, kicking his sweats to the floor. It was better for about a second, but then Louis rolled into his side again, and yep, that was definitely worse. They were skin against skin now, their feet tangled and chests pressed close. Harry almost couldn’t breathe, every place they touched seemed to send a white hot flame through his veins and suddenly he was burning everywhere.

Louis apparently caught on to his tense posture, because he twisted his head around and kissed Harry chastely before snuggling into him again.  “G’night Harry.”

And even though it made his body go hot with tension, Harry couldn’t help but pull him even closer as Louis’ breath slowed. “G’night Lou.”

 

Harry woke up hard. Like, erection-straining-against-his-boxers-hard. He tensed up as soon as he realized it, looking over at Louis beside him. The other boy was still fast asleep - thank god - and he looked so fucking good with his hair all messed up and his cheek mashed against his pillow. Harry allowed himself a moment to take it all in; the shadow of a smile on Louis’ lips combined with the weight of his thigh still draped over Harry’s leg made him physically ache for the other boy. How on earth had he been so lucky?

Harry got out of bed reluctantly – careful not to wake Louis – and disappeared into the bathroom. He locked the door behind himself and pressed his forehead against the cool surface, trying to will away his arousal. He’d never been quite this turned on in the mornings before, but this was clearly the unintentional work of a certain Louis Tomlinson.

Harry had been trying to push his desire for Louis to the back of his head for some time now, deciding that he was happy with whatever they were doing, as long as it involved Louis. But there was no denying how much Harry wanted him, wanted more than hugs and kisses that left him to deal with a craving that only intensified every time. He’d taken to jerking off way more than he’d like to admit lately, just to get some relief, but none of it compared to the images in his head.

He wanted to go further, but he had no idea how to talk to Louis about it. On top of that, there was this little (okay, maybe huge) fear that if they ever went there, Harry wouldn’t be good enough. He knew little about Louis’ previous relationships, but it had been obvious from the start that he was the experienced one. What if they did take it that far, only to have it result in Louis having the worst fuck of his life? Knowing Louis, he’d probably smile and tell Harry he was great, no matter the degree of horror he’d had to endure.

Harry had just managed to force his dick down enough to be able to take a piss when he heard a little voice from outside the door.

“Haz?”

Harry washed his hands in a blur, thinking about dead puppies and road kill and just about anything that would help his current situation. As soon as he wasn’t straining visibly against the material of his underwear, he darted back into the bedroom.

As if that would make him anything else but fucking turned on again.

Louis’ head was poking out of the covers slightly, the only thing visible a nest of hair and two blue eyes looking directly at him. Louis frowned slightly and tried to rub the tiredness out of his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was positively _raw_ with sleep. 

“Come back to bed, please? I was starting to get used to having you here.”

Harry was back in the bed within a second.

 

Spending time with Louis and his family really made Harry think about how closed off he’d been towards his own mum in the last months, and how much he actually missed her. He desperately wanted what Louis had; the opportunity to be completely himself with his sisters, and still be accepted by them. He just didn’t know if that was even an opportunity for himself.

 

Phoebe sat next to him at dinner on Saturday, too, beaming in the flower crown Harry had made for her when they’d visited the park earlier. He’d made one for Daisy, too, and both she and Phoebe had plain out refused to take theirs off ever since.

“I have a secret to tell you,” Phoebe said when she’d finished eating.

Everyone at the table heard her, but only Harry let her know that he did.

“Okay, what is it?” he asked, trying to look sneaky.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I have to whisper it.”

He leaned down with his ear pointed at her obediently, and her lips tickled his skin as she whispered (still loud enough for the entire table to hear),

“Louis likes you. A lot.”

Harry felt more than saw Louis’ apologetic expression, and maybe that was the final straw that helped him make his rash decision. Phoebe giggled as he tilted his ear to whisper back to her.

“I like him too. A lot,” he told her, matching the level of her voice so that they were still talking for everyone.

“You should be boyfriends,” Daisy said out loud. “That’s what you do when you like someone.”

Harry dared to look over at Louis then, only to find him staring back with a mix of confusion and surprise. But he didn’t look angry or embarrassed, so Harry took that as a good sign. Fizzy was the one to break the now deafening silence.

“Oh my god, you totally are,” she exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger between the two of them.

Harry smiled, but he didn’t answer her or take his eyes off Louis: this was his family, his decision. Louis smiled back.

“Harry, do you want to answer her?” he asked casually, but there was more to the statement in his eyes; he was giving Harry control over this, telling him that whatever he decided was fine. Harry could feel his heart swell in his chest. He turned to Fizzy.

“Uhm, yeah. We are.”

Even though she’d been the one to claim they were in a relationship, she seemed absolutely stunned at his answer. Harry could feel the familiar ice in his stomach grow bigger as the seconds passed.

But then the twins were hugging him and squealing at the same time as Lottie asked Louis, “But-, how?! He’s so normal and hot and-, wait- did you pay him to say that?”

On any other occasion, Harry was sure she’d received the finger, but Louis’ hand was currently busy finding Harry’s under the table.

 

Later that night, when they were finally alone again, Louis pushed him up against his bedroom door and kissed him, hard.

“Why did you do that?” he whispered into Harry’s neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to the collarbone.

“Didn’t want you to have to hide from them,” Harry tried to explain. “ _I_ didn’t want to hide from them. They’re so important to you.”

Louis let up his kissing as both his hands found Harry’s face. They looked at each other for a long time.

“I’m so proud of you,” Louis admitted at last. “I don’t even know what to say, I just….“

“Help me with something, maybe?” Harry suggested. “I really want to do it, but I don’t know if I can do it alone.”

“Anything.”

Harry bit his lip, but the relief he was still soaring on from dinner made him brave. “Help me come out to my mum?”


	14. Tick tock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phillipa19 is wonderful and the only reason I slept at all last night.

The thing about making rash nightly decisions in the middle of making out with your incredibly hot boyfriend is that they often turn out to be not-that-great in the light of day. Sure, Harry was going to tell his mum about liking boys at some point, he totally was, but it wasn’t as if he was going to run into his own house Sunday evening and declare ‘I’m home, I’m gay, what’s for dinner?’

It was way too easy for Harry to wake up the next morning and act as if nothing of the sort had ever come up. Louis, ever the gentleman, let him.

True to their plans, they said goodbye to Louis’ sisters and left long before there was any sign of Mr. and Mrs. Tomlinson. Phoebe cried and grasped at his curls until Harry promised they’d see each other soon, and when she pulled off one of her bracelets and handed it to him, he accepted it happily and vowed to never take it off.

The following weeks went fast as life culminated in revolving around schoolwork and Louis, Louis and schoolwork. They took to reading for exams at Louis’ place in a weak attempt to keep each other from drowning in the amount of homework to be done and tests to be had, and it worked to a certain degree. Well, they usually did good until the point where Louis got bored and started to run his hands all over Harry. Then it all went downhill from there.

 

It was Tuesday when Harry realized he was running out of time.

The day had been a bit more productive than usual, mainly due to Zayn and Liam’s presence. Zayn was originally helping Louis with an English essay, but his focus had drifted as soon as Liam got back from his daily run and peeled off his shirt on his way to the bathroom. Harry really didn’t fault him when Zayn practically jumped out of his seat, but he was pulled back down by Louis who then went on a long rant about the difference between shared showers and Liam’s private bedroom.

It was in between Louis whining about ‘spunk all over the tiles’ and Zayn threatening to never help him with anything ever again that Harry noticed the big red X on Louis’ calendar, only three days away.

“What’s happening on Friday?” he asked, causing Louis’ head to snap away from Zayn.

“Friday?”

Harry pointed to the calendar. “Big X and all. School doesn’t end that soon, does it?”

Honestly, Harry had been avoiding thinking about the upcoming summer holiday for quite some time. The thought of Louis graduating was something he didn’t want to worry about until he absolutely had too, but staring at the calendar now felt as if someone had punched a hole through his chest.

“Nah, school isn’t up until the end of next week,” Louis said. “Friday is the last game of the season. Last time playing with my team.”

 _The end of next week._ Where the fuck had all the time gone? Harry was supposed to have his shit sorted out by now, he was supposed to be walking the halls hand in hand with Louis and telling his mum about his boyfriend graduating and learning how every inch of Louis’ skin felt pressed against his own before summer came and then- and then what?

“Harry, what’s going on?” Louis must have sensed his panic, because his arm was around Harry then, his eyes concerned.

“Thursday.” Harry swallowed and spat out the rest of his decision before he could regret it. “Have dinner at my house on Thursday, will you? My sister’s coming home from UNI and my mum’s probably cooking something good. We’ll tell them.”

Louis’ eyes widened in surprise, a small smile playing on his lips. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” No. “Definitely.”                        

Louis kissed him softly. “Thursday, then.”

Liam’s appearance in the kitchen tore them apart, and Louis took one look at his still-shirtless roommate before groaning loudly. Liam pulled open the fridge and looked at him over his shoulder.

“What now?” he asked.

“You know what,” Louis complained, throwing his arm out in Zayn’s direction. “Don’t play innocent. You’re doing this to him on purpose, poor boy. Besides, it’s giving me a complex.”

Zayn really was quite the funny sight where he sat; mouth half agape and eyes glued to Liam. When he realized he was being watched, his expression was sculpted to one of indifference faster than Harry thought possible.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Liam insisted through his blush.

Louis raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t matter. I’m declaring a new house rule; Shirts are to be worn at all times when occupying the shared living- and kitchen areas. Go put on some clothes, big boy. I don’t need you walking around half-naked in front of my boyfriend with your abs out and everything.”

“That’s a shit rule,” Zayn said, just as Harry leaned further into Louis and whispered,

“Didn’t even notice until you brought it up. Believe me, the only person I have any desire of seeing half-naked is you.” Harry’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he added. “And that’s my cue to leave. I promised Niall we’d hang out, he’s getting impatient. See you tomorrow?”

“You’re leaving me with these two twats? They’re going to start sucking face as soon as you walk out the door.”

Harry kissed him one last time. “You’ll survive. I’ve got to go tell Irish about Liam’s abs so he’ll have new wanking material.”

 

Okay, so maybe Harry wasn’t having Niall over solely with the purpose of playing FIFA. Maybe there was this other thing, too, a thing he’d been wanting to ask his friend about. And what better time than when they were both placed firmly in front of a TV screen, the booming sound of a fake football-audience lessening the possibility of total embarrassment?

“Hey Niall, remember when you said we were supposed to share stuff?”

Niall grunted in agreement, but gave no further reply as his team forced Harry’s into defense on the screen. Well, you take what you can get.

“I want to have sex with Louis.”

Niall froze, looked over at him and then slowly turned off the entire television and turned to Harry. He still said nothing, so Harry blurted on,

“I mean, we’ve been together for a while, right? And, I dunno’, I feel like it’s something that ought to happen at some point, or? What do you, like- or, I mean- does it- shit, I- Maybe it isn’t-“

“Harry,” Niall interrupted him slowly. “You’re a seventeen year old guy. I’d be concerned if you _didn’t_ want to shag your boyfriend.”

Oh.

“Oh. So you’re-, like, is this okay for us to talk about, or?”

Niall chuckled. “Relax, I’ve been expecting this. Didn’t think it would take you this long, though. Is Louis’ patience finally coming to an end?”

Harry didn’t fault him for jumping to the seemingly obvious conclusion. “No, it isn’t. That’s the problem. He’s just so fucking sweet and innocent with me all the time and it’s never even come up. And I want to bring it up, but come on. There’s no way I’m going to be able to do that, and what if he doesn’t want to?”

Niall picked up the TV remote, his finger hovering over the ‘on’-button. “First rule if we’re having this discussion; You don’t get to ask dumbass questions with obvious answers. The guy’s been wanting to get in your pants since the ass crack of time, let’s be real.”

Harry nodded reluctantly, and Niall threw the remote away.

“Listen, Harold, I’m not going to give you the old ‘wait until you’re ready and with someone special’ speech. You’re both way legal and both obviously mad for each other. I say go for it already. “

Harry twisted in his seat. “But, like- what if it turns out horrible? I’m so fucking inexperienced, and he’s so-. I have no idea what to do.”

It was terrifying to admit out loud, but just as Harry had suspected Niall didn’t do anything but lean back further in his seat and put his hands behind his neck. Thank god for open-minded Irishmen.

“Okay, so I already told you when I lost the big v,” Niall started, and Harry nodded again. “What I didn’t mention is that it felt pretty shit afterwards. You have all these movies and people and probably books, I don’t know, telling you that it’s wonderful and amazing and you’ll see stars and all that bullshit. And when I didn’t, it was like this big bubble of expectation bursting over my head.

You can say it was because I didn’t wait long enough, or because I didn’t know the girl as much as I should, or that I was a bit drunk… But I don’t really think that’s the proper problem. I’d just been putting way too much into ‘the first time’ and the whole ‘sex is going to make you a man’ and all that.

Point is; sex in amazing _now._ When I’m comfortable with myself and I know what to expect. And you’re going to get to that point, probably sooner rather than later. But it’s not going to be your first time. Knowing you, you’re probably going to bump your head on Louis’ knee or something and get a concussion. It’s going to be awkward, and you’re not going to do it perfectly and it’s not going to be rainbows and unicorns. But that’s fine. Besides, the fact that you’re willing to let Louis be your first is probably going to be such a fucking turn on for him that he’s going to blow his load before you even touch his dick.”

Niall was a man with few verbal restrictions. In that moment Harry had trouble deciding whether or not that was a positive.

“When it comes to the actual act, I can’t really speak from experience.” Niall chuckled. “Haven’t ever fooled around with a guy, actually. You should report back to me, tell me if it’s worth a try. Do you think Liam would let me blow him? Just so that I’ve been there, you know.”

“I think Zayn would have your head on a platter for even thinking that question.”

“Yeah, probably.” There was a small sigh of defeat before Niall perched up again. “Anyway, so when it comes to the actual fucking I’m not a qualified source of experience. Just- use condoms, yeah? Like, seriously, I know you can’t get pregnant and he’s probably clean as a whistle but you can never be too careful. Lube, too. Supposedly shit tons from what I hear. That makes sense, considering there’s going to be a dick up someone’s ass at-“

No verbal restrictions? Definitely a negative. “ _Thank you_ , Niall. That’s all I wanted to talk about.”

Niall blinked for a second before shrugging. “Hey, are there any Doritos left?”

 

Harry’s heart dropped to the pits of hell when he opened his locker the next morning to find a massive box of condoms. But then he remembered just as quickly that, yeah, Niall had his locker combination. His suspicions were confirmed when he tore off the attached post it note and read it.

Niall was pretty great, after all.

_Have fun, be safe. I’m not ready to be an uncle just yet. xoxo_


	15. What?

They had the flat to themselves the next afternoon. Louis claimed on the phone that Zayn had joined Liam in the gym out of curiosity, but Harry had a growing suspicion he’d kicked them out for the day. No matter the reason, Harry wasn’t about to complain. Especially not when he arrived to the smell of burnt meat and a flustered, red faced Louis.

“I was going to make you dinner, and then the steak caught on fire and I threw water at it, but apparently you’re not supposed to throw water at hot oil and- I’m sorry, Haz, it was supposed to be romantic and I fucked it up.”

Harry let his eyes drift from his boyfriend for a second, only to realize that Louis’ apartment was almost unrecognizable. It was clean-actually, tidy _and_ clean-, the table was set properly, there were even candles, and fuck if the entire sight didn’t make Harry’s throat tighten. And suddenly it hit him like a wrecking ball;

“I love you,” he whispered, because he had to say the words out loud. Had to test them on his tongue and find out why he hadn’t said them sooner when they were so true- truer than anything else Harry knew. He _loved_ Louis, of course he bloody did, he’d been a goner from the minute he saw the guy but this- this was something way different, something so much heavier but somehow it made him feel light as a feather and-

“What?” Louis’ eyes where wide and his mouth twisted where he stood, completely frozen. “What did you say?”

His voice was small, but Harry’s even smaller when he averted his eyes. “Sorry. You’re just-, and all this is so-… It slipped.”

“You love me?”

Harry drew a breath and decided on honesty, damn it all to hell. “I do, yeah.”

And then Louis was on him, his body slamming into Harry’s so hard that they ended up on the floor, the carpet and Harry taking most of the fall. Not that it mattered, because Louis was holding him down and kissing every inch of his face before his lips finally stilled right above Harry’s own.

“I love you, too.” Louis sealed his words with a kiss. “So much that it hurts, actually.”

There were a million questions burning in Harry’s head, most of them ‘Why?’ and ‘How?’, but Louis kissed them all away and that was fine, really. Harry could ask him another time. Maybe.

When Louis finally pulled away, Harry opened his eyes to find pools of blue shining down at him. Louis smiled, his lips red and a bit swollen as they stretched out over pearly teeth and fuck- All Harry wanted to do was keep him like this forever, and so he tried the best he could; sliding his fingers around Louis’ hips and gripping them tight.

He definitely didn’t mean to slam their hips together on _purpose._

Louis moaned. He _actually fucking_ moaned, and the sound went straight to Harry’s previously oblivious dick. As soon as the sound left him, Louis went still in Harry’s arms. His eyes widened and then squeezed shut, effectively stopping Harry from understanding whatever it was he was feeling.

“Lou?” Harry tried, letting one hand slip from Louis’ hip and down the curve of his bum.

That was apparently the wrong thing to do. Louis buried his head in Harry’s chest at the touch and grinded down on him – _fuck_ \- but then he was gone completely before Harry had any chance to react, rolling off him and onto his back on the carpet, their bodies no longer touching.

“Shit,” Louis whispered.

There was silence, far too long silence.

“Was that-… not okay?” Harry asked.

Louis threw an arm over his face and let out one single chuckle. “You really have no idea what you do to me, have you? It’s just- you can’t come on to me like that. You just can’t. It’s too fucking hot, I’ll end up flipping you over and doing you right here on the carpet until we get rug burn all over.”

Harry frowned at his rushed explanation. “And you don’t want to do that, then?”

“Of course I want to do that!”

Harry didn’t understand why Louis talked as if his confession was obvious, when he really wasn’t making any sense at all. “Then why don’t you?”

Louis’ arm flew from his face, and his voice was almost hoarse when he spoke next. “ _Harry_.”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Harry admitted shyly.

He could barely hear Louis’ deep intake of breath over the blood rushing through his own veins.

“ _Fuck,_ Haz. We can’t just- We should talk. First. About this. Talk. Yes.”

“Fine,” Harry agreed easily, even though the last thing he wanted was to waste any more time. He was still pathetically turned on just from hearing how Louis’ voice had gone all low. “Then talk.”

They were both still on their backs, looking up at the ceiling.

“You haven’t ever, have you?” Louis asked.

At least that one was easy to answer. “No.”

“I’m not-, I mean, there’s been guys.”

“I reckoned. What’s that got to do with anything, though?”

Harry looked over at Louis and found him properly blushing. If there was one thing he hadn’t been expecting out of tonight, it would have been _that_. It made Harry think about how silly it was that they’d never talked about this before.

“Hazza, your first time deserves to be with someone far better than me.”

“I think that’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

“Haz-“

“And how would that work, anyway? I’m supposed to run off and hump some random guy? You’re not making any sense, Lou.”

Louis grabbed his hand and threaded their fingers together.

“I know. Sorry. I’m just trying to take this in. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m not going to regret it.” He looked over at Louis. Harry really wanted him to understand this, more than anything. “You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. I love you and I trust you.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the _only_ boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

Louis finally put his cheek against the rug and looked back at him. Harry chuckled.

“Exactly. So that leaves us with one simple question. Do _you_ want to?”

“You’re asking me if I want to shag you, is that it?” Louis mocked, and Harry would hate him for trying to be funny right now if it wasn’t for the fact that it was such a _Louis_ thing to do.

“I am.”

Louis smiled. “Well, then, you’re in luck. My body is yours. Take me right here, Prince Curly.”

It was meant as a joke. Harry wasn’t going to take it as one.

Instead he rolled over so that he ended up on top of Louis, keeping most of his weight on his elbows as he leaned down to connect their lips once more.

With Louis flat on the floor beneath him, Harry suddenly felt so much more in control than he was used to. Normally Louis would make up for their size difference by yanking him down by his curls or pushing Harry into flat or not-so-flat surfaces or even the fucking dipping thing he had going on, but this- this was something else. Louis was completely submissive, taking whatever Harry gave him. Kissing him back but not trying to push it. Caressing his waist but not pulling him closer.

Louis was handing over control, Harry realized. Letting him decide what and when and how because he didn’t want Harry to feel pressured or rushed. That thought, of course, only made Harry want him more.

When they had to break apart for air, Harry let his mouth drift to Louis’ throat, nibbling at the skin before pressing soft kisses downwards.

“I’m glad,” Harry whispered into Louis’ neck. “’Cause I was thinking we could try something?”

“Anything. Whatever you want, Haz.” The breathlessness in Louis’ voice did ridiculous things to Harry.

“Let me put my mouth on you?” he blurted.

Apparently, there was only so long Harry could pull off being cool and in control. Louis tensed up a little bit, and Harry allowed himself to slip one hand from his hip and up under his shirt, trying not to think about the way his pale fingers contrasted with Louis’ tan skin or how soft he was beneath his touch.

“You don’t-,” Louis cleared his throat. “You really don’t have to do that, love.”

He was missing the point, again.

“I want to,” Harry confessed, and Louis’ eyes fell shut again.

“Fuck, Haz.”

Harry smiled. This time, when their hips brushed, it was deliberate. Harry allowed himself all the time in the world as his lips travelled from Louis’ lips to his neck and on to his collarbones, kissing over the parts Louis had excitedly told him he wanted painted in black ink after Harry had mumbled ‘chest pieces are kinda hot’ in the park that one time.

The lining of Louis’ shirt stopped him from going further, so he slipped the hand that was already gripping at Louis’ waist down again and tugged the shirt slightly up.

“Can I….?” he asked, but when he looked up Louis was already nodding his approval.

The shirt went off in seconds, Louis arching off the floor to get it out of the way faster. Shirtless Louis wasn’t exactly a new thing to Harry, but shirtless Louis on the floor beneath him with his erection visibly straining against his jeans was a sight Harry swore to never forget. Not that he was ever going to, even if he wanted.

Louis kept his eyes shut as Harry’s mouth connected with his skin once more. It wasn’t until Harry pressed his tongue against one of his nipples that he tangled his fingers in Harry’s hair and kept him there, as if to keep himself grounded. Louis let go after only a second, his grip becoming more of a caress as Harry’s lips ended up at the waistband of his jeans. And then-

And then what?

Harry honestly had no idea. Not only had he never given a blowjob before, but neither had he ever been close to being on the receiving end. He’d tried watching porn, but the fake moans and surgically altered actors never really got him going.

Cursing himself for not preparing for this moment, Harry tried as hard as he could to figure out what would have made him feel good if the roles were reversed. He must have paused for too long, though, because suddenly Louis was popping up on his elbows, looking at him with concern.

“You okay, love?” His voice was velvet as always, but there was a certain rough edge to it that Harry hadn’t heard before. “Whatever _you_ want, yeah? Honestly.”

Harry felt the blood rushing to his face, praying it wasn’t too obvious.

“I’m fine,” he forced out, meaning it. “I just- tell me if I’m doing anything wrong or something? Or, you know, if you want me to do something differently?”

Louis smiled. “You are really fucking amazing, you know that?”

Harry wanted to tell him no, that Louis was the amazing one, but they’d had that argument enough times for him to know that it could last for hours. Instead, Harry hesitantly let one of his fingers trace Louis’ skin from one hipbone to the other, making goose bumps appear along the edge of Louis’ boxers.

He allowed himself to learn the feel of Louis’ length through his trousers before finally undoing his fly and hooking his thumbs into the lining of said jeans. He didn’t even have to look up for Louis to lift his hips obediently, and soon the only thing left in the way was Louis’ boxers.

Harry pressed a kiss to the small trail of hair disappearing into the hem of Louis’ pants before removing them too and fuck- just _fuck._

Harry had already thought Louis perfect beyond reason, had already fantasized and wondered and assumed how he would feel and look when they finally got to this point but nothing – nothing – had ever come close to this.

He reached out and wrapped a hand around Louis without even thinking, just had to know how he felt like, and grinned when Louis let out a choked sound at the touch.

Maybe he could do this, after all.

Louis was heavy and hot in his hand and so, so hard when Harry tightened his grip slightly and let his hand slide to the base of Louis’ cock and then up again. He kept his eyes on Louis’ face, judging his reactions and to Harry’s utter amazement the other boy looked far gone already. The realization gave him the confidence he needed to shuffle further down Louis’ body.

Harry was almost shy at first, poking out his tongue and licking at the fluid already gathered at the tip because he was curious. Wanted to know what Louis tasted like. When he found it wasn’t bad – not pleasant, really, but certainly doable – he added his lips, wrapping them around the head just barely.

Louis hissed at the contact, but it was a good sort of hiss, the kind that made Harry want to take as much as Louis into his mouth as possible. Which is exactly what he did, Louis hitting the back of his throat before Harry hollowed out his cheeks and drew back again, repeating the action. His hand was covering what his mouth couldn’t take, slightly out of rhythm but he tried to make it work.

“Fucking – hell, Haz, though you said-. Never before- Oh, g-od.“

Louis was almost panting now, but his blabbering was cut off when Harry experimentally pressed his tongue to the underside of Louis’ cock and licked all the way up to the slit, flicking his tongue across it.

Louis seemed to be fighting an inner battle with himself. Over what, Harry had no idea, too distracted by how fucking good he looked like this. Louis’ hands were balled into fists at his sides, grasping at the short bristles of the carpet. Harry wished he’d tangle them in his curls, maybe guide him down on him or even fuck into his mouth.

And then, before he could think more of it, Louis did do just that – knotting his fingers into Harry’s hair, pulling him – away?

“Haz -” Louis got out. “You have to-, please?“

As soon as his lips left Louis with an obscene sound and he allowed himself to be tugged up, Louis was coming white hot between them. Harry couldn’t stop watching him, then, how his face tensed up right before pleasure overtook him and his expression changed.

Harry waited until Louis came to his senses before hesitantly sliding his pinky through the fluid coating Louis’ chest and bringing it to his lips.

“You taste kinda good,” he said stupidly, but before he even had a chance to be embarrassed Louis tugged him down and crushed their lips together.

“That-“ he whispered against Harry’s mouth. “Was fucking incredible.”

Louis flipped them over so that he was on top, but Harry could only enjoy the familiar feeling for so long before Louis suddenly got to his feet and reached out for Harry’s hand.

“Come on,” he demanded, a smile on his face. “My turn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sweats nervously*


	16. Framed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uhm, life gets in the way sometimes? *hides*

Harry had never been inside Louis’ bedroom. Why, he had no idea, and if he was being completely honest he’d never really thought about it until now. Until Louis was dragging him through the flat by their joined hands, leaving Harry with the sight of his bare bum as he lead the way.

Louis threw a glance over his shoulder at the living room behind them when he reached the door, and Harry could have sworn he heard a muttered ‘ _on the floor, Jesus Christ’_ , but then Louis was tugging him into his room and the thought was lost.

The complete and utter chaos of messiness in Louis’ bedroom stood out against his otherwise clean flat. It was almost as if Louis had thrown all his possessions into this one room to keep the other parts tidy, and knowing Louis that’s probably exactly what he had done.

Still, it wasn’t what caught Harry’s attention.

“Lou,” he whispered, coming to a halt. “The wall.”

Louis turned, his face half a smirk, half wonder. “Yeah. What about it?”

Harry didn’t respond, too busy stepping closer to the nearest wall, reaching out to let his hand dance at the edge of Louis’ face captured in a tiny white frame taped to the wallpaper.

Harry recognized the photo instantly – He was even in it himself, an arm wrapped around Louis’ shoulder as they smiled at the camera – it was one Liam had taken of them just a few weeks ago. And it wasn’t the only photo decorating the plain grey wall of Louis’ bedroom; there were hundreds, covering nearly every inch of it. Some of them were old – two newborn babies Harry assumed to be the twins, pictures of a young Louis and people Harry didn’t know, a woman who looked so much like Louis she had to be his mother – and some of them were new, like the one of Liam kissing Zayn’s cheek or the one of Harry wearing Louis’ football jersey.

Harry could feel the warmth radiating off Louis as the other boy stepped closer, but he wasn’t able to tear his eyes away from the photos just yet. There were so many – and many of himself, too, not just in Louis’ arms but on his own. Photos Louis had taken for what Harry had assumed to be just shits and giggles, which explained why he was pulling funny faces in half of them.

Harry didn’t realize just how close Louis had gotten until he could feel soft lips teasing at his earlobe.

“Babe?” Louis murmured, his hand finding its way to Harry’s thigh, slowly itching higher. “Are you going to stare at photos all day or are you going to get into bed and let me wrap my lips around your cock?”

Harry stumbled a bit, caught off guard. He’d been completely distracted, but now that Louis had his hands on him again there was no denying how turned on he still was.

Louis chuckled softly into his ear as his hand found the waistband of Harry’s pants and slipped under it. “Haz?”

“Bed,” Harry croaked, his voice no longer his own. “Definitely. Bed, yeah, we should- bed.”

Louis let his hands find Harry’s hips and kissed him- slowly, tenderly. There was nothing Harry could do but let Louis guide him towards the bed in the corner of the room, not even realizing until the back of his knees hit the bedframe. Louis gave him a playful push and Harry let himself fall into the soft covers, pulling Louis along with him.

“You said,” Louis murmured, one knee on each side of Harry’s hips as he straddled him. “That you’d thought about this?”

Harry nodded, his eyes locked on the spot where Louis’s naked crotch rubbed against his own. He was only half listening to Louis, the denim of his trousers now painfully restricting his erection and distracting him from all else. He reached down to release the pressure, but Louis caught his hand and tangled their fingers together, smiling as he brought Harry’s hands above his head and held them there.

“Wanna tell me about it?” Louis’ lips were only half an inch from Harry’s now.

And Harry wanted to, would happily tell Louis everything but he was too aroused to think.

“Yeah,” he managed, and that earned him a chaste kiss. “Yeah, we were- uhm, something like this with-. With you on top of me.”

Louis smiled, but his voice was still frustratingly even when he spoke again. “And what did you imagine me doing to you?”

“Kissing, first” Harry tried, but Louis didn’t give in just yet. “And you were naked, like now, only I was too.”

There was a second’s silence as their eyes locked, and then Louis leaned down and connected their lips – finally. Harry’s shirt was gone before he even realized it happening, and then Louis was tugging away his jeans too, somehow still kissing him. When he was left in just his boxers, Louis sat up again. Harry’s hands were still held in place over his head and he couldn’t help but lift his hips in an attempt to get some friction through the thin layer separating him from Louis’ cock.

“Hazza,” Louis protested softly, remaining still. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry wasn’t sure if his voice was even audible, so he nodded, too, praying that Louis would do _something_ before he went insane.

Louis let go of his hands then, letting his palms travel down Harry’s chest. He didn’t hesitate when they reached his boxers, pulling them off in one swift motion so that Harry was left bare.

It was terrifying, Harry decided, being on display like this in front of someone as perfect as Louis. For a second he wanted nothing more than to cover himself up, but then Louis leaned down to blow hot air across his already oversensitive cock and yeah, okay, maybe he could be embarrassed later.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Louis whispered, making Harry’s breath hitch in his throat.

He didn’t have time to recover until Louis’s lips wrapped around him and he was lost – completely so, not able to think anything but louislouislouis. Harry tried to hold on, tried not to come after seconds like the inexperienced teenager he was, but Louis seemed determined otherwise. It was only so long before Harry had to tug at his hair and beg him to move. He didn’t.

 

After, when Louis wrapped his arms around him and pulled the duvet up around them both, is when Harry noticed a tiny picture on the wall closest to the bed. A small cut out that didn’t match the others, taped so much more properly than all the rest. It took Harry another moment to recognize the person in the picture as himself, and then-

“Lou? Is that my yearbook picture?”

Louis didn’t lift his head to look, only pressed his face closer into Harry’s neck. “Maybe.”

“But- That was taken in September.”

Something half-pleasant twisted in Harry’s stomach as he tried not to count backwards in hope, but- eight months.

“I know."

“When did you put it up?”

Louis kissed his neck and sighed. “September.”


	17. Family dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute comments are my kryptonite and also I am so very very sorry.

Every time Gemma came home from UNI, the same routine was followed in the Cox/Styles household. Gemma would get in her car and drive as soon as her last class of the day ended, giving Harry and Anne just enough time to shuffle home from work and school, prepare her favorite dish and slam it on the table as she walked through the door. Ever since Gemma moved away they’d held on to this routine, and it had always been a night reserved for just the three of them.

Which is why, when Harry mumbled “Can Louis please come to dinner tonight?” Thursday morning, he didn’t really blame his mum for the surprised look on her face.

“Louis? The one who always picks you up right outside our home, a bare few yards away, but whom you’ve never allowed me to meet?”  

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m asking you to meet him now. And I’ve already kind of invited him.”

“Then there’s not much I can say, is there?” Anne teased, but Harry caught her smiling as she turned away.

“Thanks, mum.”

“Is Niall coming as well?” she added as an afterthought. “Because in that case I may need to take a second trip to the grocery store. Your friends are going to eat us out of the house one day.”

Harry stumbled on his way out of the kitchen, his chest suddenly tight.

“No, he’s eh- busy. It’s just me and Louis.”

He left before he could catch her reaction.

 

School was hell. Going home alone to make dinner with his mum as if everything was normal was even worse. The way Anne danced around the kitchen, singing along to the sound of her little yellow radio, mixed with the familiar smell of her cooking made Harry want to crawl up in a ball and disappear. In just a few hours she would know. She would know and no matter how good or bad she took it, there was no way everything was going to be the same again.

“Why the moody face?” Anne closed the oven door and tripped over to where Harry stood at the sink, peeling potatoes. She picked the peeler from his hands and started doing it herself, nudging him towards the table. “Please fold the napkins, you know I’m horrible at those. Are you afraid I’m going to embarrass you in front of Louis?”

Harry sighed and picked up the first grey square of paper, folding it neatly. “Not exactly. I’m just tired, I guess.”

Anne chuckled . “I would think I could tell the difference between angst and tiredness when it comes to my own son. You look about ready to throw up.”

“I’m-“

The sound of the doorbell made Harry jump, shutting up his feeble explanation.

“I’ll get it,” he mumbled, grateful for the distraction.

The fact that Gemma always came storming in on her own accord left Harry no doubt who was outside. He still had to catch his breath when he opened the door and saw Louis standing there, all smiles.

“Hey,” Louis said tentatively. “How are you doing?”

“You dressed up?” Harry responded stupidly, and Louis frowned down at himself.

“Shit, is it obvious? I didn’t know what to wear, and you’re not answering your phone and I figured tonight was kinda maybe important. Like, I’m meeting your family and I don’t want them to think I’m some kind of slob and I just-“

Louis’ voice was cut off as Harry stepped forward and threw his arms around him, completely enveloping Louis with his own body.

“You look perfect,” Harry whispered. “I want to show you off to the entire world.”

And the thing was, he really _really_ did. Because Louis was standing there in his freshly ironed shirt and best jeans, smiling as he tangled their fingers together and Harry was done. He was done hiding, done pretending not to be hopelessly in love with the most perfect guy in the world.

Before he could regret it Harry was tugging Louis along into the kitchen, smiling at his mum when she turned at them.

“Mum, this is Louis,” he announced. His voice didn’t even quiver, and Harry allowed himself to take some pride in that. “We’re together.”

 

Anne’s expression didn’t change. She reached out a hand in Louis direction and smiled at him. “Nice to finally meet you, Louis.”

She didn’t get it.

Harry’s heart sank as Louis removed his hand from where it had been placed firmly at Harry’s lower back to shake hands with Anne.

“Likewise, Ms Cox. You have a lovely home.”

“Oh, please,” Anne smiled. “Call me Anne.”

Harry watched his mum turn to the stove again, and figured that she may have been right earlier. He was definitely considering vomiting at this point.

“No, mum,” he stuttered. “We’re, like- _together_.”

“Yes,” Anne turned around again, looking confused. “I’m not deaf yet, you know.”

Harry closed his eyes in frustration, but before his resolve could crumble completely, Louis’ hand found his.

“Ms Cox, sorry- Anne,” he said, begging her to understand. “I’m Harry’s boyfriend.”

“Yes,” Anne repeated, her eyes flickering between the two of them. “Of course you’re his boy- oh.”

And there it was, the change Harry had been dreading. His hand tightened around Louis’ as his mother’s face turned stern. Her smile was just a faint memory when she folded her arms across her chest – and turned to Louis.

“What’s your full name?” she demanded.

Louis looked completely taken aback, but he had the sense to reply right away. “Louis William Tomlinson.”

“And you go to school with my son?”

“Y- Yes.” Louis stuttered. “A year above.”

Harry was half considering dragging Louis out of the room at this point, but a mix of confusion and terror left him nailed to the floor.

“Which makes you eighteen,” Anne concluded.

“Nineteen,” Louis protested. “I’m resitting my A levels, my transfer got messed up.”

“Do you live with your parents?”

“On the weekends. The house is too far from school.”

“Do you have a criminal record?”

“No.”

“Do you genuinely care for Harry the way he cares for you?”

Louis hesitated at that, if only for a second, before his face broke into a smile.

“I would hope so. I do love him stupidly, after all.”

There was only a slight widening of Anne’s eyes before her smile matched Louis’.

“You’re alright,” she declared. “It’s really nice to meet you, Louis. And I’m sorry about that.”

Louis insisted that it was no problem at all, and then they both giggled, leaving Harry gobsmacked on the sideline.

“Mum?” he finally got out. “What are you doing?”

Anne shook her head at him.

“Can’t just bring a boy home and not expect him to get the exact treatment that Gemma’s dates got, can you?”

Harry looked from Anne’s smiling face to Louis’ surprised grin, feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears as they stared back at him.

“But I thought-“Harry started, his throat thick.

Anne’s smile fell at the sound of his voice. Her arms were around him before he could even finish his sentence.

“No, honey, no no no,” she insisted. “Have I not always told you that I love you no matter what? I don’t care who you fall in love with, I’m just glad you didn’t bring home a serial killer. Or someone who cooks better than me.”

Harry took a deep breath as he pulled back, managing a small smile of his own. “Definitely no worries, then.”

“Eyy,” Louis protested softly, but he didn’t disagree.

Harry shrugged. “At least you’re defying the gay stereotype. Well, one of the-“

A numbingly familiar shriek from the hallway shut him up, the sound of his sister’s voice echoing into the kitchen accompanied by a door slamming.

“You’re gay?!”

Harry turned around to face Gemma, taking in the furious look on her face.

“What the hell, Harry?” she urged on, stepping into the room. “Care to explain why this is the news I come home to? You little two-faced shit.”

Her eyes flew to Anne. “And you’re just happily accepting this? You don’t care that your son is a f-“

Louis was in her face then, glaring her down.

“I suggest you shut up now, if you prefer all your hair still attached to your scull.”

Ever since they met, Harry had never quite been able to picture a Louis who was violent enough to beat three people up out of pure rage. Until now.

Gemma rolled her eyes. “Oh please, pretty boy. As if.”

She dodged around him as if he was air and gripped Harry’s shoulders tightly.

“You’re a fucking cunt, you know that?” she asked, shaking him. “It’s supposed to be me and you against the world. Not me off on UNI while you’re hiding in the closet back home. Why didn’t you tell me? No, fuck that, why in hell did you tell _mum_ before you told _me_?”

She hugged him fiercely, not letting go as she continued her rant. “I’m never forgiving you for this. If I ever get engaged, you’ll be the last to know. If I ever get knocked up, the _mailman_ will know before you.”

She let go of him then, sighing. “I could have set you up with so many cute guys before I left. Such a waste. But then again I can see you found one on your own.”

At that she twirled around to Louis, throwing her arms around him before he had a chance to react.

“Hello,” Gemma smiled. “What’s your name, gorgeous bitchy one?”

“Louis,” said Louis, his face only halfway stricken by terror.

“Nice to meet you, Louis,” she replied. “I’m Gemma. Break my brother’s heart and I’ll break your face.”

Anne interrupted her then, laughing lightly.

“Alright, sweetie, that’s enough. Dinner’s ready.”

 

Gemma spent two hours questioning Louis about his life and ’inspirationally violent attitude’, Louis spent two hours complementing the food of one blushing Anne and Harry spent two hours wondering if his life had been turned in to an especially  bad rom-com.

Not that he would mind. The food was pretty good, after all. 


	18. Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anons on tumblr make my life

«We’re gonna lose.»

«Stop it, you’ll be amazing.»

“No, no. I’m going to trip over the ball or get a red card and they’ll hate me forever.”

“Louis, you’ve already won the series. It doesn’t matter.”

Harry’s voice was barely a whisper, loud enough for Louis’ ears only. Cramped into a corner of the schools locker-room with the rest of the team only feet away, discretion was a necessity. Louis was already in his jersey, the red and green familiar against his skin. The scared look on his face, though, that was new.

“Fuck the series. If I cock up tonight, I’ll never have a chance to make it up to them. This is _it_.”

Checking first to see if anyone was paying them attention, Harry let his fingers brush Louis’ hand swiftly.

“Trust me, it’ll be fine. And you’re eleven guys out there; win or lose, it’s a team effort.”

Louis visibly exhaled, the tension in his eyes softening as he looked up at Harry.

“You’ll do great,” Harry insisted.

Louis smiled briefly. “You really think so?”

“I do.”

Louis looked as if he was about to say something else, but then Niall was there with a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Pep talk time, Captain Lou. If you will.”

Louis’s eyes lingered on Harry. “If I score, it’s for you, yeah? See you after.”

Harry may have tripped when he rushed out.

 

Liam and Zayn had saved him a seat at the bleachers, ensuring prime view of the game. Josh was there too, and that was a first. Harry was glad, though, because that meant someone to talk to while Zayn was busy shoving his tongue down Liam’s throat.

The first half was uneventful, the two teams frustratingly even in performance. At one point there looked as if the others would score, but Niall jumped into what even Harry recognized as an inhuman save and caused the audience to go mental.

“That was really good, wasn’t it?” he asked Liam through the explosion of the crowd.

“Fucking brilliant, yeah,” Liam agreed. “The coach has had scouts in throughout the season, there’s bound to be one here tonight.”

Harry did not ask about Louis’ scholarship chances, and Liam did not bring it up. Even though Harry realized he was probably biased, it was obvious that Louis was the best player on the team except Niall. He was the captain, for Christ sake.

Niall had already had UNIs showing interest in him despite the fact that he was still had a year left of school, so there was no way Louis hadn’t been picked up on. It had almost become taboo, though, Louis’ future plans. He didn’t talk it, Harry didn’t ask. With one week left of school, Harry wondered how much time he had before that bubble burst. And what would happen when it did.

The other team scored 5 minutes into the second half, the ball plummeting past Niall before anyone even realized what was happening. Harry had never cared much for sports, but it was almost funny how watching Louis’ reaction made his own stomach twist. And then he was on his feet beside Liam, shouting and cheering just as loud because _they had to win this._

But wishful thinking does little to resolve football results. The game intensified after the first goal, causing both teams to play rougher than strictly necessary. Harry had to repress his grin when Doug got tackled face-first into the ground, but he could hear Zayn laughing loudly as the player responsible received a yellow card.

With ten minutes left of the game, Louis scored. Of course he did. The crowd boomed of cheers as Louis lifted his arms to the praise, his grin splitting his face in two. His eyes met Harry’s from across the field, sparkling blue joy, and it felt like being kicked in the stomach by an angry bull. Fuck, Harry loved him. Fuck, Harry loved him like he’d never loved anything before and Louis was _his._

Only Harry didn’t know for how much longer.

The sickening feeling mixed with the swelling pride in his chest as the game continued. Their team was better now, motivated by the goal. The minutes ticked into overtime and just when it looked like the game would end in a tie Louis passed the ball to Andrew (Harry only knew him because he was in his year, the youngest and newest member of the team), whose eyes widened in surprise before he came to his senses and put the ball perfectly in the upper corner of the goal.

“Fucking big brother complex,” Liam laughed as Andrew drowned in the lump of teammates hugging and patting random parts of him.

Harry didn’t quite follow. “What’re you on about?”

“Louis could have easily put that in the net himself,” Josh supplied. “But so could Andrew, and the coach needed to see that. Kept him on the bench forever.”

The coach blew her whistle, then, indicating the end of the game.

 

Some people are tentative. They think things through before they do them, weigh all options and take every aspect into consideration before they act. Harry had always seen himself as that kind of person; the careful, not-so-spontaneous kind of guy.

In that moment, though, there was not a thought in his head but _Louis_. It took him the span of getting out of his seat and jumping off the bleachers before the thought of what he was actually doing caught up to him and filled him with euphoria. There was people everywhere now, blocking his way but he pushed through them, didn’t stop until Louis was right there in front of him.

Harry was on him before Louis even saw him coming, barely managing to keep the both of them upright as he dropped his head and put his mouth inches from Louis’.

“Can I kiss you?” Harry begged.

There was no moment of consideration.

“Yes.”

Harry kissed him. Harry kissed him and Louis kissed back and he knew there were people everywhere but he couldn’t bear to spare them another thought. Louis was everything and he was right there at the end of Harry’s fingertips, right there underneath his palms and against his lips.

“What was that for?” Louis asked when they broke apart, his lips red and slick.

“I had to. While I still can, right?”

Louis’ voice was tender now. “While you still can?”

“You’re leaving,” Harry’s grip around Louis tightened. “We’re not talking about it, but it’s still happening. I don’t even know what’s going to happen but if this is my last week with you-, I have to make it count.”

“Haz…” Sweat was still glistening down Louis’ forehead, his undone hair making him seem so very young. “Why don’t you come home with me, yeah? Just let me change first.”

“I thought you were going home to your parents.”

The tiniest smile appeared on Louis’ lips.

“Not this weekend. Now come on, I have something I want to show you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is short, but on the plus side I've only got two more chapters left and they will be so much longer (+ smut) so maybe dont hate me pls


	19. Letters and boxes

Harry didn’t know what he was expecting when Louis flicked on the lights in his flat and dropped his bag by the couch. The only thing he recognized as new was a cardboard box sitting on the kitchen table, looking like someone was in the process of filling it. It made Harrys stomach twist.

“What’s with the box?” he wondered out loud, burying his face in Louis’ neck. He smelled like shampoo and apples and clean, his hair still damp against Harrys nose after his post-game shower.

Liam was the one to reply. “Oh, sorry, that’s mine. Just starting early, is all. Did Louis tell you I got accepted to UCL?”

Liam’s smile was bright as the sun when he grabbed the box and made his way towards his room.

“No, he didn’t- Liam, that’s amazing! Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Liam smiled. “It’s a secret, though. I haven’t told Zayn yet.”

“How come?”

Louis chuckled. “Guess who’s also going to London next year.”

Harry freed his face from Louis’s neck to look down at him, worried now.

“You’re going too, Lou?”

Because, yeah, more than three hours away by car. Fuck his fucking life. At least it was still in England, though.

Louis only laughed, his fingers finding Harrys.

“No, love, I’m not. Zayn, however, got a pretty good English scholarship at Queen Mary.”

Which explained why Liam was still smiling like an idiot.

“So you’re both gonna be in London?” Harry forced out. “That’s great, Liam, I’m so happy for you!”

_Also, not jealous enough to feel my insides burning. No, nope._

Louis nudged him, then, his tone careful when he spoke.

“You alright?”

Harry swallowed. “Yeah, yeah, fine. It’s just a lot, you know? I’m still stuck here another year.”

The chuckle he let out was bordering on hysterical. Liam silently made his way to his room and shut the door, but Louis was still smiling.

“Haz?” he asked, one finger tracing the shape of Harrys jaw from his ear to his chin.

“Yeah?”

“Go look on the coffee table, will you?”

Harry nodded as Louis’ finger fell away from his face and made his way to the black table in front of the couch. There, beside the remote control he could never understand and what he assumed to be Zayn’s can of redbull, was a tiny white envelope. Harry picked it up hesitantly, noticing it had already been opened. He turned to Louis.

“Do you want me to..?”

“Read it,” Louis urged.

Harry pulled out the white paper. It took him a couple of seconds to recognize the logo on it, and then only a second more to confirm his suspicions.

Harry dropped the envelope.

“Are you gonna accept it?” he whispered, looking anywhere but at Louis.

“Well,” Louis mused, stepping closer. “I’ve already been offered a place at Maryland, which was my plan. Move to the states, play soccer like they’ve never seen, pull American guys with my charming accent…”

Harry could hear the smile in his voice, but he didn’t dare breathe.

“Then again, I never thought I’d actually be accepted to MMU. Which is why I didn’t tell anyone about my audition. But then this came in the mail yesterday, so they must have liked what they saw.”

“Louis-“ Harry barely heard his own voice crack. “Tell me if you’re gonna take it.”

He had to glance down at the paper one more time to make sure, but even Harry knew that turning down a place at the Manchester School of Theatre was something you didn’t do. Because it was all everyone who had ever taken drama at their school could ever seem to talk about; The fact that one of the best drama schools in the UK was situated barely half an hour away.

_Half an hour away._

Louis bit his lip. “The thing is, I already kind of promised the coach at Maryland- Fuck, I can’t do this. Harry, please stop looking like I killed your dog. I’m only playing. Look at me, babe?”

Harry looked, and Louis took a final step closer, cupping Harry’s cheek in his hand.

“Of course I’m going to Manchester,” Louis smiled. “I already accepted it. Maryland can fuck off, the entire American continent can fuck off.”

Harry wrapped both his arms around Louis’ waist and kissed him, hard.

“You’re such a dipshit,” he mumbled against Louis lips, not quite ready to pull back.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, really, I’ve been freaking out for weeks now. Fuck you, Louis.” Harry kissed him again, tightening his grip around Louis’ slim waist. “Planning to go to America as if it’s nothing, as if you could just pack up your bags and leave-“

Harry could hear the unconcealed frustration in his voice, but Louis only grinned against his lips.

“It was a very good offer, Haz. They would have made me captain within a year.”

“Yeah? And what about other stuff? What about England? What about your family?” Harry was pushing him now, his hands still on Louis as Harry guided him backwards. By the time Louis’ back hit the wall, their foreheads were glued together. “What about me?”

“What about you, Haz?” Louis breathed. “You never said anything. Never even asked.”

“Because you didn’t want me to!” Harry let his hands slip down and cup Louis’ arse, pushing their hips closer. “What if you didn’t get in at MMU? You’d just leave?”

Louis brought his forefinger to Harrys lips, smirking. “If I didn’t get in, I’d do exactly what I’ve already done, which is explain to Marylands coach that he’d have to postpone his offer a year.”

“And then what?” Harry pushed, but he could feel the desperation draining from his body. “I was supposed to just move to America with you?”

“I hadn’t gotten around to figuring out the details yet.” Louis admitted. “But if I say yes, will you continue this angry-Harry thing you’ve got going? I’m quite fond of it.”

Harry laughed. It seemed the only thing he could do at the minute. And then, for the hell of it, he brought both of Louis’s wrists above his head and pinned them to the wall with one hand. Slowly, Harry slipped his free hand under Louis’ shirt and put his lips against his ear.

“What, if I snog you against a wall and tell you you’re not going anywhere, will you finally fuck me?”

Before Harry could laugh again and let go, Louis had pressed himself flush against him, his hips bucking against Harry’s thigh.

“Fuck, Haz, yes.”

Their lips met again, and Harry saw no reason to question anything.

They managed to tumble into the bedroom somehow, in between shirts being ripped off and trousers being unceremoniously unzipped. When Harry finally fell into the bed, he was left in his boxers only. Louis stood watching him with a smile, his jeans halfway down his beautiful, beautiful thighs.

“Tell me what you want, Haz,” he demanded.

Harry pouted and reached for him. “Want you to come here.”

“No, like, serious talk.” Louis pulled his jeans all the way off and straightened again.

“But we already had the serious talk, remember? Right before I put your dick in my mouth.”

Louis’ cheeks gained the slightest tint of red. “Yes, thank you, I remember very well. But this is different.”

Without breaking eye-contact, Harry slipped his boxers off and threw them on the floor. Then, he put three fingers in his mouth and made sure they were sufficiently wet, hollowing out his cheeks. Louis’ mouth fell open as Harry popped one of his legs up and let his fingers run all the way down his body, finally teasing at the puckered hole between his cheeks.

“Come on, Lou, help me out here,” he begged, pressing one finger past the rim and into himself. “It’s more fun if you do it.”

“I doubt that.” Louis’ voice was an octave too high, the outline of his erection visible through his underwear. “Shit, fuck, you need lube for that, let me-“

He turned towards the nightstand but stumbled and had to catch himself on the bed before fumbling through the drawers. When he eventually managed to locate a bottle of lube and a condom, Harry was knuckle-deep and working on getting a second finger in alongside the first. Louis crawled on his knees towards him on the bed, expression strict.

“Lube, Harry. Please don’t hurt yourself.”

“It’s fine,” Harry got out. “Not my first time doing _this_.”

“It’s not, huh? You better have been thinking of me.”

“Every time.” Harry pulled his fingers out and sat up, leaning over to let his lips brush Louis’. “You do it then.”

Louis pushed him lightly down again, already slicking up his fingers. “If you insist.”

And yeah, okay, Harry had fingered himself before. More times than he could count. But this was something else. Louis was only just letting his index finger tease around Harry’s entrance when he realized he wouldn’t survive this. When he finally eased one finger inside, Harry had already had enough.

“Lou, too slow-“ he whined.

“I’m being careful.”

“You’re being a tease.”

Louis chuckled. And then he thrust two fingers inside, crooking them and hitting _that spot_ as if he had been planning it all along. Harry arched his back off the bed, gripping the sheets.

“I- hate you,” he got out.

Louis slowed down again, letting Harry get used to the stretch before adding a third. “You love me.”

Arguing wasn’t a priority as Louis let his fingers slide out slowly before pushing them back in, just barely avoiding his prostate every time.

“You want to come like this?” Louis suggested. “Just from my fingers? I think you could. Or I can eat you out, if you want?”

Harry almost blacked out at the idea of Louis’ mouth on him _there_. But he knew Louis to well to give in.

“Nice try. Still want you to fuck me.”

Louis looked up at him and their eyes met. Harry took advantage of the opportunity.

“Please?” He begged, clenching around Louis’ fingers and moaning. “Just want you inside me. Want you to fill me up.”

For once, Louis seemed at loss of words. He slipped his fingers out of Harry and fell still. Harry reached for the condom and sat up again. Louis was still achingly hard. He wrapped his fist around Louis’ cock with the hand that was already slick from spit, giving a few gentle tugs. Louis hissed, his head falling backwards.

“Okay?” Harry urged.

Louis bucked up into his hand, and he took it as a yes.

Harry’d only ever put a condom on once before, on a dildo in year nine health class. Trying not to let this affect him, he ripped the packet open and rolled the condom gingerly down Louis’ cock. Only when Harry slicked him up with lube did Louis seem to snap out of it.

“We should-,” he blurted. “I mean, if you want. It’s easier if you’re on top.”

“Oh-okay,” Harry agreed, surprised. “But do you have another condom, ‘cause-“

Louis shook his head. “No, not like that. Here, I’ll show you.”

He gripped Harrys hips and flipped them around, so that Louis was the one laying on the bed with Harry straddling him. It dawned on Harry that this wasn’t easier, it was so that he could control the pace. If it wasn’t for the fact that he could feel Louis’ dick pressing against the back of his ass, he’d act on the fire in his chest that told him to embrace Louis and never let him go. But, Louis’ cock against his arse. Right.

Louis’ thumbs drew calming circles into Harry’s hipbones as Harry grabbed Louis’ cock and positioned himself above it, slowly sliding down.

Louis was a stream of reassurances and compliments, asking if he was okay. Harry could only bite his lip and concentrate on the task at hand. Louis was much thicker than anything he’d ever had inside him before, and he’d be lying if he said it was comfortable. It didn’t hurt too bad, though. When Louis took Harry’s cock in his fist in an attempt to distract him, it didn’t take long until he was fully seated in Louis’ lap.

“Haz? Babe? Is this okay?”

Louis held completely still and Harry loved him for it.

“Just adjusting,” he said, drawing a deep breath.

It didn’t hurt at all anymore, was the thing. Mainly, Harry had to cope with the fact that Louis was actually _inside him right now holy fuck_ and _don’t come yet don’t come yet don’t come yet_. When he finally moved, slamming down on Louis’ cock with a force that had them both moaning, there was no going back.

“You’re so-, pretty-,” Louis gushed. “Pretty like this.”

Harry was beyond capable of responding, so he made sure to roll his hips in exactly the way that had left Louis moaning just before. And rightly enough…

“Holy fuck.” Moan. “Why did we never-, oh god. Haz-“

Harry wanted to sigh at him, then, say that the long wait couldn’t possibly be blamed on him. But then Louis gripped his hips and flipped them again, pinning Harry into the mattress with his body.

Yeah, he wasn’t saying anything against Louis right now.

“Okay?” Louis whispered, taking Harry’s earlobe between his lips quickly. “You have to tell me-“

Harry nodded. “Okay, okay, okay,” he chanted too, just in case. “Perfect, Lou. So good.”

Louis grinned at the encouragement, bracing one hand on the bed and wrapping the other around Harry’s erection again. Harry put his legs around Louis’ waist and was gone.

It was a bit clumsy and a lot out of rhythm, but every thrust of Louis’ hips sent him flying higher than the last. It didn’t take long before Harry was coming all over both of their chests. He fisted a hand in Louis’ hair and dug his heels into the small of his back, and then Louis’ was coming too, his moan fading into a stream of _harryharryharry_ before he collapsed on top of him.

Still wrapped in his post-orgasm bliss, Harry didn’t allow it when Louis tried to move off him.

“Stay,” he begged, bringing his arms around him. “Pretty please.”

“Was just gonna find something to clean you off with,” Louis explained softly. His hand came up to cup Harry’s face, stroking away the strands of hair from his forehead.

Harry shook his head. “In a while, yeah?”

“Mhm.” Louis kissed his nose. ”I love you, by the way.”

“I love you too,” Harry promised. The words seemed horribly insufficient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know.


End file.
